


Heaven Sent

by Morgana_avalon



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 11:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 224,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana_avalon/pseuds/Morgana_avalon
Summary: Warren visits New Orleans on a business trip and doesn't know that there is a contact to kill him, which the Assassins' Guild accepted to carry out. While returning from a nightclub, Warren runs into an Assassins' trap. Facing death, an old team-mate comes to the rescue. Warren flees, following Gambit's instructions. Once they are in safety, he realizes that the Cajun has amnesia and everything that happened after the age of 10 is now a blank. However, assassins don't give up that easily....





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1

In complete silence, the young man stole through the abandoned corridor underneath the ancient crypts. Briefly, he felt immensely grateful that New Orleans was a city of superstition. It was probably the one reason why the priest didn't dare to disturb the rest of the dead laying here in their cold tombs.

 

The corpses didn't bother him and he sneaked passed them. This was his only way to get into the cathedral, which was the one place where he felt safe enough to spend the night. At least here people didn't try to take advantage of him. Here, they didn't threaten to kill him if he refused to give them the little money he'd made during the day.

 

Oh, the priest probably knew that he'd been sleeping in his church for the last few weeks, but for some reason he allowed it to continue. Sometimes at night, he heard the priest move about, checking the doors and making sure all candles had been extinguished. During his first night here, he'd foolishly lit a few candles. A mistake he wouldn't make a second time.

 

The silence… the silence in this holy place always got on his nerves and he needed time to get used to the absence of noise, which filled the streets during the day. But he was safe here and exhausted, he sank onto the floor. There was a warm rug in front of the altar and he curled up on it. It was blasphemous and the first time that he'd slept here he'd expected the heavens to strike him down, but nothing had happened.

 

Feeling miserable, he pulled the old and worn coat closer to his body. High above the altar hung a crucified Christ and gently, he whispered an apology, assuring the heavens that he didn't want to offend, but he needed a place to sleep, far away from the dangers in the streets!

 

An angel statue loomed over him and strengthened his feelings of safety. This angel had a warm facial expression and his hands were extended, as if calling people to join him. The first time he'd come here, the angel had scared the hell out of him.

 

But to the right of the altar was a huge, grande statue of the Virgin Mary and it reassured him that he was welcome here. She had such loving eyes… He wished his mother looked like that… He had never seen her or his father, but he hoped she resembled this statue and maybe one day he'd find her. Right now, his situation looked hopeless though.

 

His eyes slipped shut and mentally he reviewed the past few days. Things had happened too quickly and had been times that he hadn't been sure that all events had really happened or that his vivid imagination had made them up!

 

It had all started a few weeks ago when he'd woken up in a hospital. He'd freaked, wondering what he was doing there. One of the doctors, an elderly man called Evans, had asked him his name and date of birth, as he'd had no any ID on him when they'd brought him in. His answer hadn't surprised Evans. He'd had no recollection of who he was, what his name was, where he'd been born, or how old he was.

 

Part of his mind was still blank. However, he'd started to remember certain things.

 

He remembered growing up on the streets in New Orleans. During the first ten years of his life they'd been his home. He didn't remember any faces of people that he'd been fond of though and there were still bullies around who tried to intimidate him. They were after his money or anything of value he happened to possess.

 

All he possesses now were the clothes on his back. The doctors had taken pity on him and had found a way to buy him some clothes. He'd stayed in that hospital for at least two weeks. At the end of those 14 days, they'd wanted to transfer him to another hospital to help him regain his memory. They'd also started him on heavy medication and he'd felt sedated and isolated. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of another day at the mercy of those sedatives.

 

So he'd run. How he'd gotten out of the ambulance, he didn't know. The driver had been getting himself some coffee and donuts and the door had opened. In a daze, he'd leapt outside. Talking in hindsight that probably hadn't been the most brilliant thing to do, as he'd ended up on his face, instead of his feet. His coordination had stunk due to the drugs and he'd barely made it to the cover of the trees.

 

But the driver had never realized that he was gone. When the driver had arrived at the hospital they'd been pretty mad at him for losing a patient!

 

He still kept the prescription for the meds in one of his pockets, just in case. Doctor Evans had firmly ensured him that the meds would help him regain his memory, but he didn't want to feel drugged like that ever again.

 

That was all he wanted… his memories back. He wanted to know who he was. Why he'd lived on the streets. What had pulled him back to New Orleans? He'd taken up his old life style again, shocked to find that most of his hiding places still existed and weren't occupied. Within a few days, he'd memorized his chain of hideaways and had ventured out to find food and water.

 

In his youth he'd been a talented thief. He'd picked pockets without the owner ever noticing, but he was a grown man now and no longer had the advantage of being small. People noticed him… noticed his ragged clothes and… haunted eyes.

 

His eyes. The first time that he'd stared at his reflection he'd recoiled. Le diable blanc, that was what they'd called him and even now they whispered it whenever he forgot to put on his sunglasses. Maybe he should go by that name and forget he probably had a real one.

 

He remembered most of what had happened to him up to the age of ten, but there were even holes in his mind when it came down to the first five years of his life. He vaguely remembered carrying out orders from an old man who'd scared him gutless. He hadn’t had a say in things, the old man had told him what to do and he'd obeyed, even if he'd hated doing it. Who was this man? Why had he obeyed the old man? And how had he suddenly ended up on the streets?

 

His head reeled. He was depressing himself, but this line of thought was hard to stop. Didn't he have a right to know who he was and how he'd lost his memory?

 

Struggling for contact with reality, he opened his eyes and stared at the angel statue. At the edge of his mind a memory struggled closer. He'd stared at this angel before, had even cherished its warmth… The Archangel Raphael.

 

In a city like New Orleans no one could escape the influence of Voodoo, superstition and religion. It was an odd mix and most Cajuns needed something to hold onto. Voodoo had never attracted him and he'd tried hard not to get tangled in the webs of these Voodoo priests as he had this weird feeling they might want him for one of their rituals… le diable blanc would definitely be a catch!

 

But these angels… he could look at them for hours; let his thoughts drift and even hope that they would come alive for him.

 

"I'm pathetic." The sound of his voice startled him. He should keep quiet.

 

But he really felt pathetic! Last night, he'd dreamt that the angel had come alive and had gathered him in his arms. The angel had even promised to take him to heaven because he'd been good. Proudly, he'd stared into his blue eyes. "Didn' steal, non…"

 

He ate out of garbage cans and sometimes he got lucky. People threw away excellent food! He'd found sandwiches, still wrapped up and untouched in garbage cans! At first he'd been a little suspicious. What if it was a trap, set by some weirdo who had drugged the food? But hunger did terrible things and eventually, he'd simply devoured it.

 

But he worried about a different type of people when he was on the streets, searching for food. During his youth he'd quickly learned to stay away from men who looked wealthy, but whose minds were vile and dirty. Yesterday, one of them had walked up to him, promising him a lot of cash if he let the man tie him down and… he'd managed to get away from the bastard. Hopefully, they would never catch him.

 

His thoughts ran in circles. Images of New Orleans filled most of his memories. He knew that he'd lived here once, but now he hated the place. He wanted to leave it behind and travel someplace else. This city constantly emanated bad vibes!

 

Cold… the cold crept into his bones through the rug and he hugged his legs, pulling up his knees. Although he'd hated staying at the hospital, at least there he'd had a warm bed and regular meals. Maybe he should have stayed there, let them drug him. This wasn't much better.

 

He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them. The metal bracelets created a hard sound. He'd been found wearing them. Evans had tried to remove them, but the metal was relentless. They weren't uncomfortable, but they felt cold to the bone.

 

The angel statue stared down at him and he felt relieved that there was no condemnation in that stare, just promise and love. Something slipped back into his mind. He'd prayed at the feet of this statue when he'd been only a small boy and now, as a grown man he spoke the same words again. "Ange de Dieu, toi qui es mon gardien, puisque le ciel m'a confié à toi dans sa bonté, é claire-moi, dirige-moi et me gouverne aujourd'hui."

 

No angel would listen to the miserable sinner that he was. But what was a man, even a man without memory, without hope? He would never give up and die fighting, but did he still have the energy to continue this quest? "Jus' want to know who I am, mon Dieu…"

 

Soft footfalls startled him and he struggled back to his feet. But it'd been days since he'd eaten last and exhaustion finally caught up with him. He could hardly move a muscle. The sunglasses almost slipped from his nose as he even wore them inside the cathedral. He didn’t want to offend a sacred spirit dwelling in here. "Who are you?" Hell, his own voice sounded alien to his ears!

 

"What are you doing here, mon fils?"

 

The voice sounded gentle and kind and he worked up enough courage to peek at the man hovering over him. It was the priest. "I'm leavin', m'sieur." Hopefully, the priest wouldn’t call the police. He could run but he didn’t want them chasing him through the streets.

 

Surprised, the priest studied him. Two weeks ago he'd realized that someone was using the cathedral as a sleeping place, but he never expected to find a young man, curled up on the rug. Young people hardly ever visited the church these days and finding this young man in front of the altar mystified him. His old eyes traveled up and down the young man's form and he slightly shook his head, seeing the bruises that covered part of the youngster's face. It was obvious that he had been involved in a fight. He was skinny and moved with an alarming sluggishness. Concerned, the priest decided to take care of this stranger.

 

He couldn't bear to look into the priest's eyes, which seemed benign and briefly he hoped that the man would let him stay. By staying here during the night, he wasn't doing any harm! Maybe if he offered to keep an eye on the entrance, making sure no one else sneaked inside at night the old priest would let him stay. But would the priest accept such an offer from a trespasser? "Didn' steal anyt'in', père, " he added quickly. "Would never steal from de Church."

 

The priest waved the comment away. "I know you didn't steal anything. I would have noticed if you had, but you've been sneaking in here for weeks. Why?" His concern grew, hearing the startled tone in this young man's voice. Something was very wrong with this youngster!

 

Only now he realized how old the priest really was. His hair was grey, brow wrinkled, but the brown eyes radiated life. Somehow… somehow this old man seemed familiar, like he should know this priest… he felt incredibly lost. "Needed a place to sleep," he said, trying to explain his trespassing.

 

The priest made his decision. This young man needed help and he couldn't turn his back on this youngster or chase him away. "It's cold on the floor, mon fils." Awkwardly, he extended his hands and tried to help the young man to his feet, but old age had weakened his body and he had to let go, afraid he might take a fall.

 

Cautiously, he refused to lean on the brittle old man. But those eyes… he'd seen them in a dream that he'd had a few nights ago. "Do I know you?" he asked, wondering why he felt this insane urge to put his trust in the old priest. Too tired to question his instincts, he gave in and bowed his head. His fate was now in the priest's hands.

 

He stared at the young man, pinched his eyes and finally got out his glasses. "You don't need sun glasses in here," he said in a kindly berating tone. "Put them away, mon fils." Instinct told him that the youngster hoped to find sanctuary here and he wanted to learn more about the pained expression on the young man's face.

 

His hands trembled as he slowly removed the sunglasses. He didn't want to open his eyes, reveal them to the priest. People always crossed themselves seeing his eyes and then chased him away.

 

"You can't be scared of me!" the old priest exclaimed in a teasing tone. "I'm an old man, almost eighty!" Why was this youngster so hesitant to open his eyes?

 

A little reassured, he opened them slightly. He feared the priest's reaction though. The old man would probably tell him to leave the church and never come back!

 

"Mon Dieu," the priest sighed, seeing those eyes and involuntarily he took a step back. The eyes were red on black. "No wonder you're scared to look at me, mon fils!" But he made sure that no judgement sounded in his tone. He'd lived a long life, survived two world wars and refused to give into superstition. The good Lord certainly had a reason to send this young man with these alien eyes to his church!

 

In a belated reflex he flinched. He truly expected the older man to change his mind and to order him out of this holy place. Why would the priest allow him, devil spawn, to stay here?

 

"You need to get warm," the priest said softly. The black and blue bruises on the young face told him that this youngster needed someone to take care of him and he was more than willing to serve the Lord in whatever capacity his saviour deemed necessary.

 

The young man remained motionless, uncertain if he'd misheard. Was the priest really taking him in? Him? Le diable blanc? He didn't want to admit it, but it really hurt when people called him that name. The worst thing was that he was starting to believe them! What if he really was the devil's son? He had the eyes…

 

"Are you coming?" The priest turned around, when the young man didn't move. "I think we need to talk." It was obvious that the youngster didn't trust him, couldn't trust him and he realized that instant that this young man had lost his faith in the goodness of people, expecting only beatings and scolding.

 

Suddenly, the priest's words sank into his mind. His body was no longer paralysed and he hurried towards the old man, almost tripping over his own feet as he followed the priest. He was afraid that this unexpected lifeline would slip away from him.

 

The priest led his guest through a corridor and then opened a door to his private rooms. "It's not much, but all I need." Closely, he watched the young man's pupils dilate. The youngster had never expected him to truly welcome him to his home. Sadness washed through his old bones. Something had crushed every ounce of trust in this stranger's soul.

 

Candles created a soft warm glow and he craved their warmth. Incense filled the small room and hesitantly, he stepped inside. He was so tired of being alone... he desperately needed the older man's company.

 

The priest pointed out the two chairs near the fireplace, which radiated warmth and light. "We both need to sit down, mon fils."

 

He wanted to argue, but his legs gave out on him and he collapsed onto the chair. The warmth was entrancing and he stared at the priest's old callused fingers, as they folded in prayer. "Merci, for… takin' me in." The priest gave him an undecipherable look and he grew uncomfortable. Concern sprang from those ancient eyes and seeing that emotion in those brown orbs took him aback. Did this old man really care about him? Why care?

 

"You must be awfully cold." The old man shifted in his chair and reached for the coffee pot standing on a table next to him. After pouring two cups, he looked up. Distrust colored the red on black eyes and he realized he would have to work hard on gaining this young man's trust.

 

His hands shook, but he accepted the offered cup and relished the feel of something hot in his icy hands. Cautiously, he took a sip and sighed. "Oui, I am, père," he whispered in dread. What the hell was le diable blanc doing talking to a priest?

 

"My name is Etienne," he said softly. "You look like you need some food, mon fils." Too skinny, he thought upset. Now, by the light of the flames he noticed the starved expression and the hollow cheekbones.

 

"Has been days since I ate last," he confessed gingerly and relished the hot coffee as it slide down his throat.

 

"You can find bread and Gumbo in the kitchen," Etienne said softly. "Help yourself. My old bones…"

 

His eyes sneaked off and found the bowl of Gumbo on the table. "Don' want to eat your dinner, père," he confessed in a guilty tone, although temptation almost overwhelmed him. He craved the food like oxygen.

 

"There's more where that came from, eat," Etienne instructed in a determined tone. He'd eaten his share before making his rounds. "You need the food," he pointed out, hoping this lost soul would accept the offer.

 

His stomach growled loudly and before he knew it, he was sitting at the kitchen table, stuffing the bread and Gumbo into his mouth. He tried to eat as much as possible, uncertain when he would get another chance to fill his belly.

 

Etienne suddenly stood in front of him, which was odd, as he hadn't heard the priest walk into the kitchen. The old man sat down opposite him and gave him an inquisitive look. "I owe you an explanation, père Etienne," he started hesitantly. But he didn’t know what to tell the old priest. He didn't know the truth himself.

 

"Take your time," Etienne replied patiently. He'd seen enough wounded souls to recognize the hurt. First, this young man needed to learn to trust him.

 

"Don' know who I am, père Etienne. Only remember livin' here when I was a chile… remember de ange statue… I don' know my name..." he stuttered embarrassed.

 

Etienne whispered, "You've lost your memory?" The lost expression in the alien eyes touched his heart. "I want to help you, mon fils."

 

"Do you know me, père Etienne?" Leaning forward, he prayed that the priest knew his name. "Please?"

 

"Non, I don't know who you are. But you must trust me now…" Slowly, he got to his feet. "You look like a ghost, mon fils. First, you need rest. You do trust old père Etienne, don't you?" He sent a genuine prayer to his Lord, hoping that this young man would give him this chance. Oui, God had certainly sent this youngster for a reason. Now he needed to find out why he'd been chosen for this task.

 

Etienne's tone made his eyes water. "You're de first to…" he couldn't finish. Etienne was the first to treat him kindly, like a human being who deserved consideration and respect. "You don' t'ink I'm a… freak?" He'd almost said le diable blanc.

 

"Non, you aren't a freak," père Etienne assured him, but quickly realized that someone had installed that believe in the young man's mind. Why would anyone want the youngster to hate himself? To think of himself as a freak? "You need rest, food and care," he said eventually, hoping the young man realized he was sincere.

 

"Dey call me le diable blanc," he finally admitted in a tone filled with self-loathing. "You sure you want me here?" He wanted to move, wanted to get to his feet, but he couldn't. His words would probably make père Etienne recoil in abhorrence. Why had he said them!

 

But père Etienne remained calm, almost expecting such an admission. There was so much pain in those eyes! A deep urge to soothe the young man took over. "You aren't le diable blanc, mon fils. They only say that because your eyes scare them. People try to destroy what they fear. No devil would go to sleep at the feet of the statue of archangel Raphael."

 

Embarrassed, he closed his eyes. His alien eyes didn't seem to matter to père Etienne and the priest's words took away a deep ache inside his soul. He desperately hoped that the priest was right. Père Etienne gestured him to get to his feet and slowly he followed the priest into the small bedroom. "Dere's only one bed," he stuttered in a guilty tone. No way he would let the old man sleep on the floor or in that chair!

 

"I'm old. I no longer need that much sleep. Lie down, mon fils and get warm." Slowly, he reached for the blankets, pushed them aside and patted the mattress. "Don't deny an old man, mon fils." It irritated him that he didn't know how to address the youngster. "You don't remember your name?" he asked to be certain.

 

"Oui," he whispered in reply and hated himself for being this weak, but the bed looked warm and soft and it'd been so long since he'd had a good night's sleep! Mentally crumbling, he gave in and sat down. Acting liking a sleepwalker, he removed his dirty boots and then collapsed onto the bed. It was even softer and warmer than he'd thought possible! It was a little piece of heaven!

 

"Mon fils," père Etienne started, "What do you want me to call you while you're here?"

 

His eyes slipped shut, and he loved the feel of père Etienne's gentle hands, tenderly tucking him in. For the first time since he'd woken without memory he felt warm and secure. All it'd taken was an old priest showing him some kindness! Truly pathetic! A tear threatened to slide down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. He didn't want to cry! "I don' know," he whispered. "Le diable blanc," a hurt part of his soul insisted.

 

"Non, mon fils. I'll call you Remiel, after the angel of mercy, as you seem to put so much faith in them." His voices sounded calm and full understanding. The young man's tormented eyes clung to his lips and he smiled gently explaining his choice. "He's one of the holy angels, responsible for true divine visions and you look like you need one to help you carry your burden." Père Etienne softly squeezed the young man's cold hands. "Oui, Remy sounds fine to me and now… sleep."

 

Remiel? Remy? Père Etienne wanted him to have an angel's name? Tears started in his eyes and got caught on the lashes. The priest's soft voice lured him into sleep, but in his mind echoed his new name Remiel; Remy.

 

He feared the return of the nightmares, which were waiting at the edges of his subconscious. They were the main reason why he didn't want to go to sleep. He didn’t want to startle père Etienne, knowing he would wake up screaming, bathing in cold sweat… 

 

Père Etienne's face revealed worry as he stroked back some dirty strands of auburn hair. When he'd set out to find the intruder he'd never expected to find this youngster! Not many young men sought shelter in the cathedral nowadays!

 

Although the haunted red eyes were closed now, he still sensed the young man's dread. Remy. The name had soothed the startled youngster. "You need time, mon fils. I'll try and find out who you are," he promised passionately. "I've never had a son, maybe that's why le bon Dieu sent you, mon fils?" Leaning forward, he squeezed the ice-cold hands. "I'll watch over you, Remy."

 

///

 

Sometime during the night his dreams changed into nightmares and he found himself in an awfully familiar large room. To his right was a horrible statue. Shivering, he turned away, as that face revolted him.

 

"Come closer and sit down, young one."

 

His skin turned to goose flesh. He knew that sharp voice, filled with hidden power and vices. Unable to walk away or wake up, he obeyed the command and shuffled closer to the man who sat on a throne-like chair. The hairs at the back of his neck stood rigid, warning him that he was in danger, but like before, he had no way of escape.

 

A bony hand touched his face and instinctively, he tried to back away from it. The claw squeezed his shoulder and pulled him closer until he stood in front of the old man. Don’ want to look up, he thought in sheer panic, but the fingers lifted his chin. In utter dread, he stared into emotionless eyes.

 

"Don't look at me like that!" the white haired man hissed. "There's still disgust and defiance in your eyes, child!"

 

But how could he hide his feelings when this old man utterly terrified him? Quickly, he lowered his eyes and awaited punishment.

 

"The prophecy clearly states that you're his chosen one, child." The old man shook his head in disdain. "But you'll never take my place! I'll break you and you'll obey and serve me instead!"

 

Remy cringed, hoping that only a tirade would follow, as he was too scared to think of other forms of punishment.

 

"You're already mine, child. All you can do is tremble and stare at me in fear!"

 

His body shook and his eyes tried to tear apart the floor, so he could disappear into it. Clueless, he listened to the man's raving and suddenly he was jerked forward and forced onto his knees.

 

Cruel hands and sharp nails delivered blow after blow, scratching his face. He didn't raise his arms to protect himself, knowing that nothing could stop the old man's rage. He was determined to take this beating without uttering a yelp.

 

A vice-like claw closed around his throat, slowly pushing the little air he had still left from his body. At last, he yelped, begging for mercy. Amused, the old man laughed. Defensively he curled his body, as his nemesis flung him across the floor. He distinctly heard the predatory footfalls and closed his eyes in terror.

 

"Don' touch me, please… Don' hurt me…" he pleaded softly. It was a mistake. The old man laughed sadistically and the beating stopped. Cold hands unbuttoned his shirt. "Non, please, m'sieur, don'…" he tried one last time.

 

"You don't have permission to speak, child! I won't tolerate disobedience! You'll learn not to defy me! Your power's nothing compared to mine!"

 

"Please don'…" the whispering turned into whimpering.

 

///

 

"Remiel?" Père Etienne pulled up a chair and sat down next to his guest. This was the third time that the young man was suffering from a nightmare and their intensity scared him. "Remy?" he tried, uncertain whether the youngster would react to the name. "Wake up, mon fils." His brow grew knitted, seeing the terrified expression on Remy's face. "Remiel, listen to me!" he said, harder this time.

 

"Don' touch me, please… don' hurt me…"

 

"I won't hurt you, mon fils, but you need to wake up!" père Etienne whispered reassuringly. Why was this young man so afraid of being touched? "Remy," he whispered eventually and shook him gently. "Wake up!"

 

A terrified keening wail escaped Remy's lips and petrified, he struggled into a sitting position. All he knew, all he felt were fingertips touching his shoulders and he couldn't bear that touch. "Don' touch me!" he yelped in panic. His ragged breathing now slowly regulated itself. "Where am I?"

 

"In the cathedral," père Etienne reminded him. He pulled back his hands and folded them in his lap. "I worry about you, mon fils," he said honestly. "You're in pain."

 

In shock, Remy stared at the old priest. The grey hair reminded him of the white haired man in his dreams and he hid his face behind his hands. Trembling violently, he finally managed to peek through his fingers. The eyes… père Etienne's eyes were full of sympathy and concern. "His eyes are always cold," he whispered in an unguarded moment.

 

"Whose eyes?" Père Etienne walked into the small kitchen, realizing that his young guest needed a moment to compose himself. "I'll prepare some herbal tea for you, mon fils. It usually settles my nerves before going to sleep."

 

Remy remained motionless and watched the old priest retreat. He'd scared the poor old man! Why had he given in and gone to sleep, knowing the nightmares would freak him out? Maybe because he'd hoped that they'd stay away for just one night?

 

Père Etienne filled a mug with hot water and put the herbal tea in it. It needed to sit like that for a few moments and he returned to the bed. Although fear still clawed at him from behind Remy's eyes, the young man seemed calmer. "What scared you?"

 

Remy shook his head. He didn't want to burden père Etienne. "Rien," he lied.

 

"Why are you afraid of being touched?" père Etienne asked, determined to break through Remy's defenses. "I can guess, but I rather hear it from you."

 

And much to his amazement, he found himself opening up to the priest. "Dere is dis old man and he…"

 

"Oui?" père Etienne whispered patiently. "What did he do?"

 

"Beat me."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because…" Now there was a good question! Confused, Remy searched his memory. "Because I defied him."

 

"You defied him?" Père Etienne returned to the kitchen, removed the tea bag and walked back to his chair. "Be careful, mon fils. It's still hot."

 

Remy closed his trembling fingers around the mug and looked up gratefully. "Merci."

 

"Now tell me," père Etienne started, "why did you defy this old man?"

 

"I don' know." Cautiously, Remy shrugged his shoulders. "My memory's full of holes and his words… I've forgotten dem."

 

Père Etienne wondered if that was the truth, but decided not to push his scared guest. "Empty the mug," he advised. "It's almost time for me to light the candles in the cathedral. I suggest you clean yourself up. I'll try and find you some new clothes."

 

Embarrassed, Remy realized that his dirty clothes had stained the white bed linen. "Sorry 'bout dat."

 

Père Etienne smiled. "Don’t worry about it. Take a shower and when I get back we'll have breakfast."

 

Remy took some deep breaths and then sipped from the tea. "Wouldn' have known what to do if I hadn' found you," he whispered thankfully. Père Etienne was the first friend he'd made since he'd got here.

 

The priest rose from his chair. "I'll be back in one hour." As he reached the doorway, he almost turned around, telling the young man not to leave the cathedral without informing him first, but reconsidered. He couldn't force Remy to stay here.

 

Remy continued to sip from his tea and his eyes wandered through the room. Père Etienne seemed to be very fond of books and scrolls. The shelves were stuffed and almost collapsed underneath the weight. Finally, he felt calm enough to lean back his head and he rested it against the wall. For the moment he was safe and warm. "Can' stay here," he whispered softly. He couldn't infringe on père Etienne and his mind was set. Once he'd calmed down, he was going to leave the church. The thought of returning to the busy streets upset him, but he had to find out who he was and he wouldn't find his answers hiding in this room.

 

But maybe he would take that shower first. He felt dirty and his clothes emanated a vile smell. After placing the mug on the floor, he slowly got to his feet. He felt tired to the bone and briefly he fantasized about returning to the bed and hiding underneath its covers. His feet dragged over the floor as he lacked the strength to properly lift them.

 

Père Etienne's bathroom was small, but warm and clean. Sighing heavily, he slipped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower cabin. He closed the cabin door behind him and turned on the water. It took him a moment to adjust the temperature. The warm water cascaded down his body and suddenly, everything came crushing in on him.

 

Why? Why had this happened to him? Upset, he stared at the metal bracelets. Why was he wearing them? They felt cold and the doctors couldn't cut through the metal. They'd never seen metal this strong!

 

Wet hair fell in front of his face and he forced back his tears. Crying wouldn't do him any good. He had to do this on his own!

 

Several minutes later, he emerged from the shower and grabbed the towels to dry his skin. Père Etienne must have collected his clothes, as they were gone. In their place he found briefs, jeans, a sweater, socks and some sneakers. "Merci," he whispered again. Then he noticed the small note next to the clothes.

 

"Dinner, 20.00 tonight," he read aloud. Kneeling on the floor he pressed the note to his chest. "Mebbe, père Etienne," he whispered in an uncertain tone. He shouldn't accept this invitation. Something bad would happen to the old priest for caring about him. He was bad luck!

 

Quickly, he slipped into his new clothes and put on the sneakers. Père Etienne had even got his size right! Feeling uncomfortable, he stole back to the kitchen. Maybe there was some bread that père Etienne could spare, but as he reached the kitchen table he froze. Père Etienne had placed a plate filled with sandwiches on it, along with milk and coffee.

 

He grabbed the sandwiches and quickly ate them. This food was his! In a hurry, he drowned the coffee and milk and then sneaked out of the priest's rooms and back to the crypts, leaving the same way he'd arrived. Hopefully no one would notice him.

 

///

 

Père Etienne sighed, seeing the empty kitchen table. He'd cleaned the bathroom and now he sat down to read in his bible. But every now and then his thoughts drifted off and he wondered where his young protégé was now. Irritated by his lack of concentration, he closed the bible and did the dishes instead. Then he collected the young man's dirty clothes. Out of habit, he first checked the pockets before putting the clothes in the laundry basket.

 

"What's this?" Curiously, he unfolded the piece of paper. "It's a prescription," he realized puzzled. The meds' names didn't mean a thing to him, but he tucked it away. Later today, he would get the meds and hopefully Remy would return this evening. There was so much he wanted to talk about!

 

///

 

Carefully, he plotted his route through the busy streets and slipped passed people who were rushing to get their groceries. This was one of the safer spots in the big city and he spent most of the day in the park, watching people, hoping someone would walk up to him and call him by his name.

 

Suddenly, goose bumps appear on his skin. Someone was watching him! As he scanned his surroundings, he quickly located the source of that stare. A man dressed in a grey suit, stared at him from underneath heavy eyebrows. The cold brown eyes were fixed on him.

 

"I need to get goin'," Remy realized. This man was up to no good. His wallet was probably filled with cash and his mind with obscene thoughts. He had to be more careful in future, move around more and refrain from drawing people's attention. Hopefully, this man wouldn't follow him.

 

He turned around a corner and found himself in a deserted alley. Not a good development, but maybe there was an open door and he could hide here. However, his luck had left him and he found himself with his back against a wall. A wall too high to climb.

 

"How much?"

 

The voice startled him and he quickly faced the man. Merde! The man had followed him and was now showing off dollar bills.

 

"How much for a quick fuck?"

 

Merde, merde, merde! Quickly, he searched for a way out. This wasn't the first man who thought he was selling his body! Why did they think that? Why?

 

"I'm waiting," the man said, growing impatient.

 

"I don' do dat for money," Remy replied eventually. "You got de wrong person."

 

"I don't think so," the man objected. "I saw you sitting in the park for hours. You're homeless and you need money. What about 50 dollars?"

 

"Non!" Remy insisted fiercely. "I ain' no whore!" His eyes returned to the wall. He was trapped.

 

"We both know that's a lie," the man quipped and drew 50 bucks from his wallet. "C'mon, don't play hard to get."

 

Remy's eyes narrowed behind the sunglasses. Looked like he'd have to fight his way out of this alley.

 

///

 

"Eight o'clock," père Etienne whispered with a sigh. "And no sign of Remiel." He'd made his rounds, had even locked the doors at a later hour, hoping Remy would accept his invitation after all.

 

On the kitchen counter sat the meds he'd picked up, just in case the young man needed them. "Mon Dieu, you let me find him. Please bring him back to your temple," he sighed distressed.

 

Although he'd lived most of his life inside church walls, he knew the bitter reality of the outside world. He'd seen children; young adults and even men and women his age live and die on the streets. At one point, he'd even volunteered to help out in a shelter, something his superiors had disliked, but couldn't forbid. "If someone needs help, it's you, mon fils. You're a lost soul." Oui, Remy acts tough, like he can handle everything the world throws at him, but during his tormented sleep, I saw through the mask. Remy's ill equipped to deal with true criminals.

 

He sat down and stared at the Gumbo. It was a leftover, but should fill their bellies just fine.

 

Today, he'd asked a few of the other priests if they'd seen a boy with red on black eyes in the church. But most of them had only been here a few years and couldn't help him. He was determined to ask Paul, a priest his age who had worked here for 20 years, and who would return to the cathedral tomorrow.

 

Suddenly, he caught a scraping sound, like feet dragging over the stone floor. He got up from his chair as quickly as he could. "Remiel, mon fils, is that you?"

 

"Oui, père," he whispered crestfallen and stepped into the room.

 

"Remy!" père Etienne exclaimed startled. "What happened to you? Come into the bathroom!" he commanded and picked up the first aid kit from the cupboard.

 

Slowly, Remy stumbled into the bathroom. Dried blood was tied into the lashes of his eyes and he couldn't exactly see where was going.

 

Père Etienne sat him down on one of the chairs he'd brought along from the living room. "You've fought!"

 

"Had no choice, père," Remy objected and hissed as père Etienne disinfected the cut just above his left eye.

 

Père Etienne decided not to comment on it, realizing there were several reasons why Remy could have ended up in a fight. But he hoped Remy hadn't resorted to stealing, had got caught and had run from the police. The youngster was already in dire straits! "Did you suffer more injuries?"

 

"I can take care of myself," Remy insisted in a pleading tone. The bastard had cornered him in the alley and had aimed his blows at his ribs, which hurt every time he breathed too deeply.

 

"Remy," he sighed the name. "Just tell me."

 

Hearing that name in such a gentle tone sparkled some kind of memory in his mind. Could it be his real name? Had people called him Remy before? Confused, he pushed the question back into a corner of his shadowed mind. "My wrist hurts," he admitted eventually. Père Etienne couldn't do anything for his aching ribs but a firm bandage around his right wrist might do wonders.

 

"Let me see if it's broken."

 

Remy watched the old priest, who now probed the extent of his injury. It was strange. Although père Etienne reminded him of the old man in his nightmares, he felt completely safe.

 

"It's not broken," père Etienne concluded, "but I'll bandage that wrist." In silence, he wrapped gauze around the injured wrist. "This bracelet… can you take it off? It's in the way."

 

"Don' know how. It has no lock." Apologetically, Remy shrugged his shoulders.

 

Père Etienne does his best to work around it. "I hoped you would be back, mon fils." Surprised, he registered the blush on Remy's face.

 

"I'm hungry," Remy admitted in a guilty tone. He wasn't sure he could steal the food he needed in his current condition.

 

"Let's eat then," père Etienne said resolved and waited for his protégé to get to his feet. "Hope you don't mind eating Gumbo again."

 

"Love Gumbo," Remy whispered. Feeling uncomfortable, he followed the priest into the kitchen. He still didn't understand why the man cared about him. "What?" he whispered stunned as his eyes drifted off into the bedroom. A mattress lay on the floor next to père Etienne's bed.

 

"You can sleep on that mattress. I need my own bed tonight." Père Etienne saw the lurking tears in the young man's eyes. "You thought I would throw you out, now didn't you?"

 

At a loss, Remy bit his lip.

 

"You don't know me very well, mon fils," he said in a kind tone and gestured Remy to sit down. "Before we start…" he folded his hands and whispered a prayer, thanking his Lord for the food. It didn't surprise him to hear Remy whisper the words too. A Catholic had raised this young man! "Bon appetite," he said and filled the bowls with hot soup.

 

Hungrily, Remy attacked the food, shoving bread and Gumbo into his mouth.

 

Amused, père Etienne looked at the shining red on black eyes. "I won't take the food away from you," he whispered and suddenly, his heart missed a beat. Had someone starved Remy in the past? No, why would they? He shrugged off that unsettling thought.

 

"Sorry," Remy whispered after swallowing his last mouthful of Gumbo. He was still hungry, but tried to ignore it.

 

"I got more sandwiches." Père Etienne pointed him to the fridge.

 

Embarrassed, Remy remained poised. "Don' want to eat all your food, père Etienne," he said guiltily.

 

"Mon fils, the church looks after its own," he berated Remy and shooed him over to the fridge. Pleased, he watched the young man as Remy devoured another plate filled with sandwiches. "Got you some sweats to sleep in," he said in a soft tone. "I'll turn in early today."

 

Remy couldn't help but grow suspicious at such generosity. "What do you want from me in return?" He desperately hoped that he hadn't made an error in judgement. What if père Etienne hid his vile perversions better than most men? He shuddered and pushed his chair away from the table.

 

The priest noticed the sudden distrust in the alien eyes and realized that this was their first moment of truth. "What I want? Nothing," he reassured Remy. "Well, you could do the dishes before turning in. My hands always cramp up in the water."

 

"Not'in' except for de dishes?" Remy stuttered in disbelief.

 

"But you're my guest. I should do them myself." Smiling warmly, he leaned back and watched as realization spread over Remy's face.

 

"I'll do de dishes," Remy replied confused and collected their bowls and plates. As he carried them to the sink, he noticed the two small packages on the kitchen counter. He recognized the names of the drugs. 'Did you…?" his voice trailed off.

 

"I found the prescription in your pocket and I picked them up. I'm sure the doctor wants you to take them for a good reason."

 

"They'll help me get my memory back," Remy mumbled absentmindedly, "but when I take dem I feel like de livin' dead. I feel…cut off and lost. Ain' want to be drugged."

 

"Think it over," père Etienne said and walked into his bedroom. "I'm going to sleep. Extinguish the candles before turning in, Remy."

 

The door closed and Remy stared at the meds. Père Etienne was right of course. But taking them meant that he'd be dead within hours. He couldn't survive like that on the streets!

 

While doing the dishes, he tried to figure out the priest. Père Etienne seemed a decent man. At least he hadn't taken advantage of him. Maybe he could learn to trust the priest.

 

Unwilling to go to sleep, he sat down in front of the fireplace, which still burned brightly. Hugging his waist, he rocked back and forth. He didn't want to go sleep, didn't want to return to that horrible place where the old man kept him prisoner. But while he struggled to stay awake, his eyes slipped shut and he drifted off into sleep.

 

///

 

St. Louis Cathedral

 

Worried, père Etienne remained poised in the doorway. In front of the fireplace sat Remy, shivering and shuddering. His young protégé was once again having a nightmares. However, last night had taught him not to walk away, so he pulled a chair close, sat down and studied the youngster.

 

"Remiel?" He said in a soft, determined tone. "Remy?" he tried again, almost automatically settling into using the shorter name. "You're having a nightmare," he whispered soothingly.

 

Remy rocked back and forth, desperately seeking comfort and craving safety. Père Etienne's voice managed to penetrate his mind and slowly he recognized the kind voice. The blanket of terror lifted from his mind.

 

"Remy?" Père Etienne placed a hesitant hand on the young man's shoulders. "You'll be more comfortable on the mattress." The red on black eyes revealed pain and shame.

 

"Don' want to sleep," Remy objected strongly, leaving his nightmare world behind. His watering eyes pleaded with the priest for understanding. "Don' want to go back dere, père."

 

"You dreamed of the old man again?" père Etienne asked, eager to get his guest underneath some blankets. The fire had died a long time ago and Remy needed to get warm.

 

Unsteadily, Remy rose to his feet. The nightmare had worn him down and he didn’t even consider objecting. "Don' want to sleep," he repeated stubbornly, but a moment later he lay down on the mattress.

 

Gentle hands tucked him in and stroked away stray locks from his face. Strangely enough, that touch didn't upset him. Those fingertips radiated concern and he smiled weakly. "Don' worry 'bout me, père Etienne. I can take care of myself."

 

"Non, you can't," père Etienne stated resolved and ignored the confused expression on his guest's face. "What did the old man do that scared you? Did he beat you again?"

 

Remy took a deep breath. He didn't really want to remember his nightmares, but realized that they held the key to his past and identity. "He said that my powers don' compare to his," he whispered eventually and his own answer puzzled him. "Don' know what he was talkin' 'bout."

 

Thoughtfully, he observed Remy and then reached a decision. "Listen to me, mon fils. You need sleep, but those nightmares keep haunting you."

 

Remy experienced a growing unease. "Oui?"

 

"I read the prescription's instructions, Remy. One of the drugs is designed to ensure an undisturbed sleep. It's only 23.00. Will you take one pill? It should lose its effect during the morning." Pleadingly, he locked eyes with the young man. "You need rest." He hoped Remy would consent to his proposal. "Otherwise the nightmares will never let you alone."

 

"Don' know, père," Remy replied confused, remembering how cut off he'd felt when the doctors had fed him those drugs. He didn't want to feel like a zombie again! But it was tempting… a night without nightmares…

 

"It's only sleeping medication. It's the other drug that makes you feel sedated," he soothed the young man. "I'll watch over you, make sure that nothing goes wrong." The promise hung in the room. "I'm serious, Remy. No harm will come to you."

 

Reluctantly, he gave in. Père Etienne's honest tone convinced him that the priest was serious. Oui, for some reason, the old priest cared for him. "I want to sleep… mais don' want de nightmares."

 

"Bien." Contented, père Etienne moved over to the kitchen to get the meds. From the corner of his eye he watched Remy, who was trying to hide underneath the blankets. The young man still shook violently. He wished there were a way to take away Remy's pain and fears.

 

Remy peeked from beneath the covers and sat upright as père Etienne returned with tea and the meds. The warmth and care in the old priest's eyes continued to baffle him and again he wondered why the priest cared that much about him.

 

"Sip slowly," he adviced and handed Remy the tea and meds. He watched closely, making sure the young man really swallowed the medication. He wouldn't put it passed Remy to only pretend taking the meds. "I won't let anyone harm you, mon fils." Reassuringly, he repeated his earlier promise.

 

After emptying the cup of tea he handed it back to the priest. "Don' know how to say dis," he started hesitantly. Pulling up the blankets to his chin, Remy slowly rocked back and forth. It was a strange habit and sometimes he felt the urge to bang the back of his head against the wall while he rocked.

 

"What is it, mon fils?" A little puzzled, he noticed the rising blush on the young man's cheeks. He'd never met someone craving this much acceptance and affection. "This old man hurt you pretty bad, non?" he realized eventually.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted with a sigh. A strange revelation hovered at the edges of his mind. Last night he'd begged père Etienne not to touch him and now… part of him wanted to be held and comforted so badly that it hurt. But he couldn't ask the priest to hold him. Père Etienne would never do that! Mais he's de only one you trust… de only close… a tiny voice berated him.

 

Instinctively, père Etienne recognized Remy's inner turmoil and slowly covered the young man's hands with his, squeezing them gently. "I'm here, mon fils. Now try to sleep?"

 

Reassured, Remy lay down again and stared at the ceiling. His breathing slowed down and père Etienne got back into bed as well. Suddenly, he realized that the old priest was still holding his right hand! Embarrassed, he wondered what to do. Pulling back felt inappropriate, but this put père Etienne's arm in an awkward position.

 

"Dormir bien, Remiel," père Etienne said and gave the icy hand one last squeeze. "My old bones," he whispered apologetically before slipping his hand back under the covers.

 

"Merci." His eyes dropped shut. Merde! Those drugs acted fast. His mind reeled and the room spun around him. But he couldn't deny the transcendent rest that overwhelmed him as his thoughts stopped running in circles. It was a pleasant fatigue; much different from the sedated state he'd been in during his time at the hospital.

 

Père Etienne noticed the now steady breathing and turned onto his left side so he could watch Remy's face in the half dark. There was a full moon tonight and the beams illuminated the bedroom. Too young, he mused. You're much too young to have suffered this greatly, mon fils, he mentally sighed and then closed his eyes as well.

 

Remy curled his body into a tight ball and released a deep breath. Relaxed, his thoughts drifted off, but this time the drugs kept his troubled dreams at bay. This time, he dreamed of an angel with fair hair, blue eyes and blue skin.

 

///

 

Père Etienne's face softened as a gentle smile melted into the deep lines, edged onto his brow. It was noon and his protégé was still asleep. Remy was so peacefully asleep that he couldn't find it in his heart to wake the young man. It was probably the first night of decent sleep the youngster had had in weeks, maybe even months!

 

He sat down and studied the handsome face, wondering how old Remy was. Taking an educated guess, he realized that his young guest couldn't be older than 25. Probably even younger. But he looks older because of the hard life he has lead. But hopefully that would change now.

 

He walked over to the cupboard, picked up plates and knives and retrieved several food items from the fridge. Maybe I should wake him. He needs to eat. Last night, he'd realized how skinny Remy was and he planned on remedying that. "Non," he whispered. "I'll wait until he wakes." The meds were finally working, giving the young man the rest he needed and he probably needed to catch up on a lot of sleep. 

 

Eyes… Feeling eyes watch him, Remy leaped to his feet. Still drugged and sleepy eyed, he tried to keep his balance, but failed. He collapsed in a heap on the mattress. His instincts kicked in, but in his foggy state his reactions were belated.

 

"Remiel?" Père Etienne rose from his chair and moved over to the doorway. Wisely, he kept his distance. The young man's eyes looked haunted and he appeared ready to attack or defend himself from a possible assailant. What had happened to the youngster to cause these extreme reactions? "Remy?" he whispered softly. "It's me."

 

Even in his blurry state of mind Remy recognized the tender voice. "Père Etienne?" His eyes slipped shut again and he placed both hands on the mattress to steady himself. He nearly yelped as his right wrist cried out in protest. It might not be broken, but it was still heavily bruised.

 

"Oui," père Etienne replied, but didn't move any closer as he didn't want to scare the confused youngster. "Do you need help?" he offered in a friendly tone.

 

Breathing heavily, Remy struggled to regain control over his senses. "Feel like I'm still 'sleep," he murmured nervously.

 

"Take your time, mon fils," père Etienne advised. "Sit and wait for your mind to wake up as well. I'll fix you some coffee in the meantime."

 

Embarrassed and even ashamed of his clumsiness, Remy finally managed to sit cross-legged. Soft, pastel colors flashed in front of his eyes. The meds he'd taken last night only slowly lost their effect.

 

Père Etienne was probably right. Don' rush… he chided himself, but his instincts urged him to get moving. Sitting quiet like this made him an easy target. No one here, 'cept père Etienne and he won' hurt me… he reasoned with himself, but part of him refused to listen. People were always out to get him!

 

Patiently, père Etienne waited for his guest to join him in the small living room. Seeing the obvious panic on Remy's face saddened him. Even here, the young man didn't feel safe!

 

After long minutes Remy pushed himself onto his feet, using the wall as support. Confused, he realized that beams of warm sunlight caressed his skin. Can' be dat late! It should still be morning! He never slept this late!

 

Shakily, he made his way over to the table and sat down. His hands trembled as he reached for the coffee. "Don' feel bien…"

 

"But you slept for 12 hours without a single nightmare!" père Etienne pointed out to him and presented fresh fruits and sandwiches to his guest. "It's only normal that you feel shaky right now. It'll wear off."

 

"Should be on de streets 'ready," Remy mumbled uncomfortably. "Takin' up too much of your space and time, père." Sipping from the coffee, he started feeling alive again. But the priest was right. He'd had some wonderful dreams last night, which featured a beautiful woman with long white hair and eyes and… an angel. Can' mention dat too him! Père Etienne will t'ink I've gone insane after all!

 

"You can stay here as you long as you want. You don't need to leave during the day," père Etienne assures him. He distinctly notices the sluggishness in Remy's slow gestures. "You can't walk the streets like this, mon fils."

 

"I have to, père," Remy objected in an unsteady tone. "I need to find out who I am."

 

"Mon fils," père Etienne sighed the words. "I can't stop you from leaving, but please remember that I count on you to have dinner with me? You would greatly disappoint me by not visiting your old père Etienne." Although he was old, he still knew how to play people and this young man was an open book.

 

"Will be back, père Etienne," Remy promised in a sudden outburst of passion. "Will be back for dinner."

 

"Bien," père Etienne gave in. "Now eat, drink and be careful out there on the streets, Remiel!"

 

Remy smiled, hearing that name. "I'll be back," he repeated sincerely.

 

///

 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rob," Warren said fatigued and marched out of the Louis XVI Restaurant in the French Quarter. Although the food had been excellent -not too spicy- he wanted to return to his penthouse at the Pontchartainhotel as quickly as possible.

 

New Orleans. He hated being here for more than one reason. His entire life he'd been forced to attend dusty business meetings because his business partners expected him to be interested in his holdings, but this visit was different. 

 

This time he was here on dangerous business. After all these years, he was finally through with paying the Assassins' Guild protection money. His father had made the mistake of giving into their threats 40 years ago. The Assassins' Guild had threatened to kill his father and his family if he refused to cooperate. So, his father had given in.

 

Now, he'd put an end to it. Let them try and murder an X-Man!

 

Warren signaled his chauffeur that he wanted to walk back to the hotel and the limousine drove off. He needed a moment to clear his head. The Assassins' Guild already knew why he was here. He'd sent them a letter, stating that he wasn't sticking to their deal any longer. Their reaction had been… odd, to say the least. No threats, no letters, nothing. However, that didn't worry him. Or maybe I no longer care what happens to me? he mused. After Apocalypse his life had become a charade and he no longer felt like the man he used to be. 

 

Slowly, his thoughts drifted back to the past. Everything had started in those damned Morlocks tunnels where Harpoon had almost destroyed his wings. But the worst part was that they could have been saved, if not a so-called friend of his had had them amputated!

 

And then… Apocalypse. His worst nightmare had become true when Apocalypse had turned him into Death, one of his four Horsemen. Only because of Rogue he'd managed to break away from Apocalypse! Subconsciously, he still hated himself for the pride he'd taken in being Death. Power and strength had filled him when those powerful wings had supplied him with a constant adrenaline rush!

 

He'd slipped into depression after coming to his senses. The impact of what he'd done had nearly crushed him. If it hadn't been for Bets he would never have pulled through.

 

But Bets… Warren felt melancholy. He'd lost Betsy's love a long time ago, but only a few weeks ago he had finally had the guts to face that truth. That shadow walking of hers gives me the creeps! After he'd found out that evil attracted her, he'd started to distance himself from her.

 

Bets was another reason for coming to New Orleans. They'd decided to stop seeing each other. He'd hoped that the time apart would convince him that he wanted her back but… I don't love her any more. Not like I used to!

 

Now, he was here on his own and maybe that was the most important reason why he'd told off the Assassins' Guild. Maybe, deep down in his heart he no longer cared. He didn't want to consider the possibility that he had a death wish. Not Warren Worthington the Third! Never!

 

The Assassins' Guild. He shivered, remembering that another Guild had a base in New Orleans; the Thieves Guild. That was one Guild he never wanted to come into contact with. Gambit… Remy LeBeau, son of Jean-Luc LeBeau, patriarch of the Thieves Guild. Just thinking that name angered him. A soft growl struggled from his throat. Gambit, the traitor was responsible for gathering the Marauders. Remy LeBeau had handpicked Harpoon himself!

 

But Gambit's dead! Warren remembered pleased. After I refused to continue to defend him, all hell broke loose and in the end, Rogue left him there to die! But although he felt pleased that Gambit had gotten what he deserved, he still had mixed feelings about the trial. Eric the Red had chosen him to defend Gambit and he'd accepted. But after hearing that Gambit had worked for Sinister, had gathered the Marauders, he'd told LeBeau to defend himself.

 

"And only minutes before that, I reminded Eric the Red that X-Men take care of each other!"

 

Feeling miserable for several reasons, he turned around the corner. It was only a 30 minutes walk to the hotel and he enjoyed being in the open air. At times like these, he craved pulling the restraints from his wings and simply take to the sky.

 

But that was impossible. He could only walk these streets unnoticed because of the image inducer he carried. His blue skin would instantly give him away and he didn't want to run any unnecessary risks. After all, he ran a business empire! And I DON'T have a death wish! he thought, trying hard to convince himself.

 

Gambit.. the name set off another rush of anger. The Cajun had fought at his side, but had never mentioning his involvement with Sinister. That was the thing that ticked him off most. Remy LeBeau had never admitted his part in the Massacre until the trial! The Cajun thief had pretended being his friend, knowing very well that it was one fat lie.

 

Remy LeBeau had cost him his wings and had heaped a lot of pain onto his soul. If it hadn't been for the damned Cajun, the Marauders would never have slaughtered the Morlocks! Gambit had led them into those tunnels! The Cajun had never cared about their lives, had only been interested in getting his money from Sinister!

 

Enraged, his hands clenched into fists and he wished that he could slam them into the wall right now, but that would only draw people's attention. No, not the wall, make that LeBeau's face! Now, that would be sweet justice and payback at the same time!

 

///

 

Feeling ill at ease, Remy's eyes scanned the surprisingly empty streets. It wasn't that late and he wondered where the stream of people had gone that had crowded the pavement only one hour ago. It was like the city was holding its breath in fearful apprehension, ready to reveal its worst secrets.

 

He only seldom visited this particular part of town, but something had drawn him here today. It was mostly upper class and the shop owners didn't like to see homeless people hanging around and usually called the cops. 

 

Strategically, he chose a darkened, shadowed street corner and observed the few people passing him by. They were mostly businessmen, clad in expensive suits and carrying briefcases to emphasize their important position in this city. Their arrogant faces upset him; made him cringe in repressed anger. Only yesterday one of them had tried to 'buy' his services in that deserted alley. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his injured wrist. His ribs however, had stopped aching during the night.

 

He hated these men, who thought that they only had to show off their money to get what they wanted. Some of them only wanted his ass and when he refused, their injured pride drove them to extract revenge by beating him up.

 

"Not dis time. Never 'gain!" he vowed passionately. No man would ever touch him against his will again. It was bad enough that these nightmares tormented him, showed him what this old man had done to him in the past.

 

Soundlessly, he hid deeper in the shadows. His hands no longer trembled and relieved, he fumbled for that one sandwich he'd stowed away in the pocket of his coat before leaving the cathedral. From behind his sunglasses, his glance was drawn to one man in particular. Dressed in a hated grey business suit the man made his way across the street towards him. Entranced, he stared into hard blue eyes of steel, which held a strange attraction. Dey're beautiful! he realized startled, instinctively knowing that those eyes only were that hard because something soft and vulnerable hid behind them.

 

Helplessness washed through him as he found himself following the stranger. Unable to break free, he finally realized that those eyes had awoken a terrible need inside his soul, which now flared into life. As the man finally looked up, Remy noticed the anger edged onto the stranger's features and he was sorely tempted to retreat and stop this foolish quest for information. But something stronger than his fear pulled him forward. He needed to know where this man was staying!

 

Why? Why am I followin' him? I hate dese egocentric bastards! he wondered confused. The man's fine costume indicated that his wallet was filled with credit cards and hundred dollar bills. Cautiously, he pulled away from the shadows and ventured onto the pavement, as the stranger increased the distance between them. He pulled the hood of his coat over his head to conceal his face and pushed the sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. Now that his face was obscured he covered some of the distance between them, but remained at a cautious distance.

 

What's dat? he wondered confused. One bright red light slowly moved over the stranger's back towards his neck. Goose flesh formed on his skin, realizing the danger the man was in. He didn't wonder why or how he knew this, he simply acted as a deeply ingrained training kicks in. Someone 's takin' aim! His own conclusion startled him. If I don' do anyt'in' de man's goin' to die! Although the stranger represented everything he hated, his conscience berated him. He had to stop the sniper! So he moved, quicker than he ever imagined possible. But even his dazzling speed couldn't save the stranger. A soft hiss filled the air as the laser hit target, taking the blue- eyed man down.

 

///

 

Warren yelped as something incredibly sharp cut through the bone of his right wing and into his back. In terrible pain, he staggered towards the wall. He'd never thought the assassins would react this quickly!

 

The pain became nearly unbearable and he swayed on his feet, holding onto the wall for support. He was an easy target here on the streets and he needed to find cover! Damn his arrogance! Damn his pride! It had been arrogant stupidity that had urged him to defy the Assassins' Guild! Maybe he had a death wish after all?

 

Unexpectedly, a hard body slammed into his, taking him down. What the hell was going on? Did the Assassins want to end this disagreement one on one? That hardly seemed their style, judging by that sniper attack!

 

The pain in his wing made him cringe and he bit his lip until it bled. Sucking in his breath, he tried to struggle free from the strong arms that enfolded his waist, but failed. The determined hands pulled him into a deserted alley and he realized his disadvantage. In this confined space he couldn't use his wings. Damn! He couldn't use his wings anyway. One had been damaged!

 

He refused to give into the pain and a frightening panic was born. His wing! They'd damaged his wing! Freaking out, his hands tried to claw at the restraints to establish the extent of damage done, but he felt strangely paralysed and could hardly move at all. An insane fear clawed away at his mind. His wing!

 

Still fighting unconsciousness, he panted, "Not again! Never again!" He wasn't going to lose his wings again! Not after all he'd been through to reclaim them! Apocalypse had made him pay a terrible prize, one he'd continue to pay for during the rest of his life!

 

"Don' fight me!"

 

The urgent voice cut through his crazed mind and he froze in horror. Bewildered, he leaned heavily on his saviour and searched for a face among the shadows. Sunglasses hit the pavement with a metallic bang and revealed red on black eyes.

 

Time stood still and then realization crushed in on him. "YOU!" he screamed in unbridled rage. The pain no longer mattered. The fear of losing his wing was forgotten. All that mattered right now was the terrified face that stared back at him. Red on black eyes! "You!"

 

Remy flinched uncontrollably as the fury in those blue eyes doubled. The man's tone was filled with hatred and rage and that hate was aimed at him! Why? He hadn't shot the stranger? Mebbe he t'inks I tried to kill him? The question, 'Do you know me?' burned his lips, but he was too scared to ask, fearing the possible answer.

 

But the stranger fainted and Remy could barely support his weight. His wrist sent waves of pain through his arm, but he managed to ignore the stinging ache and concentrated on tightening his hold on the stranger. "Got you," he whispered reassuringly, a little relieved that the man couldn't hear him.

 

Gritting his teeth, he pushed away the renewed ache, emanating from his ribs. This man needed him and he couldn't let him down! "Goin' to take of you," he promised determinedly. "Dey won' get to you!"

 

Why was he this concerned about someone he didn't know? Someone who'd stared at him with so much unspoken hatred in his eyes? But these eyes mirrored the angel's from his dreams.

 

What if that sniper had a perfectly sound reason for wanting to kill this man? What if this stranger was a crime lord, drug dealer or pimp? But somehow that didn't feel right. Although there had been hate in those orbs, he hadn't found any evil in them. An overwhelming urge to protect his man washed through him.

 

The man was too heavy to carry, so he dragged him through the alley and finally reached one of his hideaways. After kicking open the door, he dragged the unconscious man into a corner and helped him sit upright against the wall. Confused, Remy sat on his heels and wondered what to do next. Examine his injury? A warm feeling coursed through him now that he'd been able to help another person in need. Père Etienne had set the example. Père Etienne had taken him in and had cared for him. I can do de same for dis man! Hesitantly, he stroked a few stray strands out of the man's face.

 

Very gently, he took hold of the man's shoulders and rested the unconscious body against his chest, giving him free access to the injured area. Slowly he stripped off the man's jacket. Suddenly, electricity sizzled through the air, making him jump back. The stranger fell forward onto the dirty floor.

 

Remy blinked his eyes in bafflement. The man's whole appearance was changing! Holding his breath, he watched in disbelief. "Mon Dieu," he panted and backed further away from the stranger. His heart pounded madly in his throat and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

 

A veil lifted from the man's face and revealed blue skin! BLUE SKIN! His mind felt strangely numb. Blue skin and blue eyes? "Mon Dieu!" he stuttered shocked. But the transformation continued and the fair hair turned into spun gold. Remy's eyes drifted lower and he panted slightly, gasping for much needed breath.

 

"Wings? White wings?" They sprang from the man's back and the feathers seemed soft and warm. "My dream… I saw you in my dream!" he realized in dread! His dreams couldn't come true! This couldn't be an angel!

 

Shocked, he kneeled beside the angelic creature and leaned in a little closer to stare at those magnificent wings. However, his heart missed a beat seeing the bloodstains defiling the right wing. There was even more blood on the man's white shirt.

 

Wings… feaders… blue skin… blue eyes… his head reeled and he was scared to speak. The sound of his voice might wake the angel and right now he didn't want to face those angry eyes. Maybe this angel had been sent to punish him? Why else would the angel stare at him in disgust like that?

 

But he needs help… Setting aside his fear, he realized that he needed to examine the injury to determine what kind of help the angel needed. But his hand remained poised in mid air. Can' touch an ange! he thought upset. His touch would certainly defile the celestial being!

 

His hand fell to the dirty and moist floor and his mind desperately searched for an acceptable reason to stall examining that wound. "Bandages… have to clean de wound… painkillers," he whispered uncomfortably. But in order to buy those things, he needed money! Money, which he didn't have!

 

But maybe his angel had the necessary cash! However, searching an angel's pockets seemed inappropriate and he pulled back. Shivering, he wished the angel would wake up and tell him what to do!

 

A strangled moan fled the man's lips and urged Remy into action. Maybe he was breaking certain rules here, but he had to do something! So, he pushed the angel back into a sitting position and, after taking a deep breath, allowed his fingers to stroll down the angel's back. The feeling that washed through him as he touched the feathers of those fabulous wings, took him aback.

 

An ange… I'm holdin' an ange in my arms! He shook his head as an unexpected tear broke free from his eyes. He'd always hoped angels existed, but had never expected to ever meet one, even less hold one in his arms! "Don' care what you'll do to me once you wake," he whispered respectfully. "Merci for dis gift."

 

But a droplet of blood fell onto the back of his hand and reminded him of the seriousness of the situation. "Sorry, mon ange, mais I need de money." His left hands searched for the wallet while supporting the unconscious body with his own. This angel felt surprisingly soft and warm. It only took him a moment to locate the wallet and then he slipped it out of the pocket. With a quick flip, he opened it. "Don' want to steal," he assured the angel, "mais I need de money to pay for your meds."

 

Looking through the wallet's content, he grew curious. He took out one hundred dollar and stuffed it away in his own pocket. That would cover most expenses.

 

Curiosity got the better of him and he scanned the name signed on the credit cards. "Warren Wort'ington…" he whispered and shivered violently. That name felt damned familiar! That name… "Do I know you? Non, did I know you?" he asksed aloud.

 

The angel didn't answer him, but at least now he knew his name. "Warren?" he whispered and smiled nervously. The name seemed oddly off. Maybe his subconscious had hoped that the angel's name might be Michael or Raphael.

 

Another soft mew of agony filled his ears and he quickly looked about. This wasn't the best place to nurse an angel back to health. They were hiding in the basement of a condemned building and it was cold and damp.

 

"I hid blankets in here," he suddenly remembered and rested Warren's body back against the wall. Methodically, he searched the basement until he found the two torn and dirty blankets. They'd have to do for now.

 

"I'll be back," he promised as he tucked the angel in. "Will take me 'bout 20 minutes to return." He knew very well that Warren couldn't hear him, but the sound of his own voice soothed him. "Trust me, mon ange."

 

Père Etienne! The name suddenly cut through his mind. Maybe the old priest could help! But the cathedral was too far away and he needed to disinfect the wound first and bandage the wing! No, he couldn't go to père Etienne now and had to break his promise. The angel needed him most!

 

After making sure that Warren rested as comfortably as possible, he stole over to the doorway, fumbling for the bills in his pocket. He didn't want to leave this angel alone in his current state but had no choice. "Will be back," he whispered one last time and then fled the room.

 

///

 

It took Remy over an hour to buy all necessary items, bandages, painkillers and a balm to fight off a possible infection. The little amount of money he had left, he used to buy sandwiches and orange juice. Normally, he'd search the garbage cans for something edible, but Warren's money enabled him to buy proper food for a change.

 

He sneaked back into the abandoned house and covered up the entrance so no one could find them. The sniper especially worried him and he needed to convince Warren to stay hidden until the coast was safe. But would the injured angel listen to him?

 

Cautiously, he sneaked closer. His angel hadn't moved since he'd left and a pool of blood had formed underneath the unconscious body. Not wasting a single moment, Remy hurried over to his side and kneeled. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Warren and pulled him over to a warmer corner. The blankets dragged over the floor, leaving behind a trail of blood. There was so much blood that he feared his help might come too late, but determinedly, he stripped off the blankets and probed the injury with his fingers.

 

"Goin' to take care of you," he promised sincerely. After resting the man's body against his chest, he applied the balm, hoping the wound wasn't infected yet. Next, he bandaged the man's back and shoulder, pulling the bandages tight, as he hoped it'd stop or slow down the bleeding.

 

But as he moved to examine the wing itself, his hands faltered. He was hesitant to touch those magnificent feathers, even if they were stained with blood. This angel meant the world to him and he was still trying to figure out why. And those wings… An angel's wings… and he was touching them!

 

There was no way back for him and his trembling fingers gingerly examined the wound. Relieved, he found that the wing itself wasn't hurt that badly. The blood emanated from the man's back and he only located a small puncture in the wing's bone. He couldn't do much about that. The bone needed time to heal. But just to be on the safe side, he covered the puncture with the balm.

 

The feathers felt so damned soft to his fingers and astonished, he realized that his eyes are watering. Why were these wings so important to him? "You'll fly 'gain, mon ange," he said reassuringly. But the unconscious man didn't respond and Remy smiled melancholy. For some reason he had been chosen to take care of this angel and he vowed not to let Warren down.

 

He checked on the bandages to make sure that they weren't too tight. Bien. But now his angel was shivering due to a feverish cold and reacting instinctively, he slipped out of his own long coat. Tenderly, he wrapped up the shuddering angel in the coat and then covered him with the blankets as well.

 

A few feet away from Warren, he sat on his heels, studying the unconscious angel. There was nothing else he'd do, except for a quick prayer that his angel would survive the night.

 

///

 

Hour after hour passed by. His teeth chattered due to the cold, but he knew instinctively that his angel needed the blankets more. Trying to distract himself, Remy's thoughts drifted back to père Etienne. The old priest was probably greatly worried. It crossed his mind to give père Etienne a call, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his angel alone.

 

His biological clock told him that it was way passed midnight and the night was still growing colder. But he could beat the cold. He'd learned to detach himself from it when he'd been still a child. Jus' t'ink 'bout père Etienne's warm rooms! he chided himself privately. Oui, he could beat this cold. Almost lured into sleep, he startled as Warren released a strangled scream.

 

"Don't!" Warren suddenly yelled, lost in his own nightmares. "My wings!"

 

He wanted to soothe the confused angel and so he crawled closer. But shame and a sudden sense of self-loathing kept him back. He didn't deserve it to comfort this angel. Something told him to keep a respectful distance.

 

So, he listened in fear to the angel's continuing yelps, even covered his ears to shut them out, but failed. He knew what it felt like to be trapped in those nightmares, but he couldn't cross that line, couldn't comfort his angel.

 

In a fear ridden delirium Warren lost himself in the nightmares. His yelps turned into strangled moans of pain. Apocalypse's face haunted every corner of his shadowed mind and he couldn't outrun the bastard. Apocalypse's voice sounded in his ears, promising him new wings to replace the old ones, which he'd lost. He still hated himself for even listening to Apocalypse's offer!

 

Remy's hands still covered his ears and he bit his lip, trying to shut out the yelps. He didn't want to hear them! They reminded him too much of his own pain!

 

"Stop… Stop…" Warren whispered helplessly, trying to keep Apocalypse from realizing his insane plans. "Don't turn me into Death!"

 

"Can' help you," Remy mumbled in return. Warren's pain was almost tangible and slowly choked him. Eventually, unable to stop himself, he moved close enough to touch his angel. Very hesitantly, almost certain that the heavens would strike him down, he folded one arm around the angel's shoulders. He encountered no resistance and continued to pull Warren close, careful avoiding putting pressure on the injury.

 

Instinctively, Warren reacted to the proximity of a warm body offering him comfort, and he surrendered to the embrace. I'm not alone, he realized relieved. Someone was holding him, soothing his troubled dreams. His tangled nightmares subdued as he allowed himself to be held and eventually rocked.

 

This presence felt warm and even protective. When had been the last time someone had done this for him? Bets had made it very clear that she expected him to work through this by himself. Yes, she'd offered comfort, but he couldn't let go in her presence, not like he was doing now. Bets expected him to be strong, but deep down, he had always known that she didn't really love him. She loved his appearance, his power, even his strength, but she hated his weaknesses.

 

When had been the last time that someone had held him like this? His father had… when he had only been a child. His father had sometimes pulled him on his lap and had told him about his mother. At times, they'd both ended up crying.

 

"Let go, mon ange."

 

The soft, nearly hypnotic voice drove his thoughts away from the past and he surrendered to the present. All that mattered right now was that he wasn't alone any longer. Warren let go, cuddled up to this warm body and released a deep sigh. For the first time in years he felt sheltered and cherished.

 

Confused, Remy wrapped both arms around the cold frame and held him tight. But his body almost froze as Warren rested his head against his chest, snuggling up to him. Small tremors shook his hands as he stroked back the golden hair. Did this mean that the angel trusted him to take care of him? Him? Le diable blanc? Remy pulled up his legs, wrapped his body around Warren's and offered his little body warmth to his icy angel.

 

///

 

A warm beam of sunlight woke Remy the next morning. His eyes flashed open, feeling another warm body pressed against his. Warren lay nestled in his lap and his body reacted automatically to the warm pressure. "Merde!" he cursed softly, as he grew aroused. Determinedly, Remy fought it down.

 

This is an ange! Mon Dieu! I can' feel dis way for an ange. It's disrespectful! But hell, he couldn't help feeling the way he did. Got to be stronger dan dis feelin'!

 

Remy tried to creep away, but Warren clung to his warmth and refused to let go. Remy couldn't use force to free himself, too scared he'd worsen the injury, and so he gave in eventually and continued to hold his angel. He still couldn't believe that the angel wanted to be held like this!

 

"You need to eat, drink, get better," Remy whispered absentmindedly, trying hard not to think of this warm and desirable body pressed into his. "Once you can walk 'gain, I'll take you to père Etienne. He'll know what to do." The sound of his own voice scared him and he grew quiet.

 

Tenderly, he tried to wake his angel. They couldn't stay in this damp basement much longer. Warren needed to be somewhere warm and clean. This damp environment would only worsen the angel's condition. Suddenly, a terrible apprehension swept through him, remembering the rage in those blue eyes as they'd locked with his. The angel obviously knew him… knew about his sins. But he had to persevere now. "Wake up, mon ange… please?" Maybe hearing his real name would wake the unconscious man? "You've got to wake up, Warren!"

 

Through a fog of pain, Warren registered the voice calling his name. Wake up? he thought alarmed. When had he fallen asleep in the first place? A sharp pain slashed through his back and then he remembered the sniper's attack. The assassin had shot him in the back, the coward! But what had happened after he'd been hit?

 

A hard body had taken him down… Out of the shadows the eyes had risen, burning into his soul. Red on black eyes! He'd recognized them instantly; they belonged to the traitor LeBeau. But one thing had seemed oddly out of place. Those eyes had radiated fear, pain and terror. Inappropriate emotions for those demonic eyes!

 

"Wake up, mon ange!"

 

The insistent voice pushed him into consciousness and slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

 

Remy immediately freed himself of the embrace and retreated into a corner, worried about Warren's possible reaction and waited for his angel to make the first move. Afraid, he wondered if the angel would punish him for touching his wings.

 

Warren cringed, as the pain in his back intensified. Don't move! Moving about will only make things worse! His wings! Automatically, his fingers checked on his wing. It was still there. A terrible fear glided off his shoulders. But someone had bandaged his wing… LeBeau? Why would he care?

 

"Are you in pain?"

 

That voice! That voice! Although it had been months since he'd last heard it, he knew it only too well. It was Gambit, who hunched down in the cornier. "You!" he exclaimed in an odd mix of hatred and curiosity

 

Remy pulled back into himself, protectively folding his arms around his waist. Terrible recognition burned those steel blue eyes. Only a moment ago he'd wanted to ask Warren who he was, but now his courage had left him. Mebbe I don' want to know who I am? Not if de trut' is dat terrible? It took Remy his remaining courage to ask, "Can you walk? Want to take you some place safe."

 

"Do you think I'm fool?" Warren stated in disbelief. "No way I'll ever again trust you, Gambit. And what the hell are you doing here?" The last thing he'd heard from the X-Men was that Gambit had died in Antarctica. Rogue had sought him out, assuring him that the Cajun thief had paid the prize for betraying their trust.

 

Remy trembled violently hearing that name. Gambit? Was that his real name? Don' want to know! Ain' goin' to ask! Gambit, the name echoed pain and guilt and his mind spun. For some unknown reason he resented that name and the terror connected to it.

 

Warren managed to study Remy's reaction through the mist of his own pain and shook his head in disbelief. Why was the Cajun acting like he'd never heard his name before? "What games are you playing this time, thief?"

 

"T'ief?" Remy repeated stunned. Oui, he'd stolen food and clothes in the past, but only to survive on the streets. Even a saint would turn into a thief to fill his belly! Wasn't the angel's judgement a little harsh? Well, maybe this angel knew the part of his past he'd forgotten? Doubtlessly, this angel knew everything about him, every sin he'd ever committed. No use in hiding from the truth. With every passing second he became more convinced that this angel was here to punish him for his past crimes! But maybe he could try and redeem himself if he helped this angel. "We need to leave dis place. It's too cold and you need to get warm."

 

Warren's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The Cajun was a better actor than he'd ever suspected! As he focused on those demonic eyes, he only found sincere concern and pain. And why did LeBeau look like that? Why was he dressed in clothes several sizes too big for him? A deep cut disfigured his brow, still dripping blood from underneath a dirty band-aid. Only now, he saw the bandaged wrist. This didn't make any sense!

 

"What do you want from me, Gambit? Haven't you done enough damage already?" Warren sneered impatiently, remembering their shared past. In an effort to get to his feet, he moved too quickly and grew dizzy. LeBeau still stared at him with that blank expression in his eyes.

 

Remy bit his lip. "Gambit? Is dat my real name?" He'd struggled to reach that decision, to actually ask that question. Now that he awaited the answer, he grew afraid. "And why do you t'ink I'm playin' games?"

 

Warren quickly rested his back against the wall for support and studied the Cajun's empty eyes. Something was wrong here. Why would Gambit pretend ignorance? "Of course it's your name, Gambit!"

 

"Gambit," he whispered the name, resenting it. If that was his name he hated it with a passion.

 

Warren slowly shook his head in puzzlement. He was trying hard to figure out just what was going on. LeBeau looked like he'd neglected himself, hungry and drained. This wasn't the Remy LeBeau he'd known! Okay, let's recap. LeBeau doesn't know his name, or who he really is. But damned! He saved my life out there on the streets! If he hadn't pulled me into that alley, that sniper would have succeeded in killing me! Oh, how much he hated to admit that truth; that he owed Gambit!

 

Remy shook off his unease and hesitantly extended his left hand. "Got to get you out of here." He half hoped that Warren would refuse help and would walk away from him. Suddenly, he feared discovering his real identity.

 

Looking at the offered limb Warren wavered. I've got make a decision right now. He couldn't make it on his own. He needed LeBeau's help if he wanted to stay one step ahead of the assassins! But he no longer trusted Gambit, not after the trial and learning the truth about LeBeau's part in the Massacre. I don't trust him. Had he ever trusted Gambit?

 

"Here," Remy said softly, faintly aware of Warren's inner struggle. "You need to eat and drink. Bought dis for you." Slowly, he picked up the package, unwrapped it and offered Warren the sandwiches. Although he was hungry like hell he hadn't eaten the sandwiches himself, knowing his angel needed food to grow strong again.

 

Warren raised a questioning eyebrow, as the sound of Remy's growling stomach echoed through the basement. Briefly, he closed his eyes, trying to make sense of this unusual situation. What if LeBeau was sincere and really wanted to help him? Damn! He needed more information! Another wave of growling drifted closer. "Looks like you're hungry too, Gambit," he said eventually, deciding on a course of action.

 

"I can do widout de food," Remy said awkwardly. He felt relieved now Warren calmed down. Gambit, he mused nervously. Like Remiel, Remy a lot better!

 

"I still don't get it," Warren stated unexpectedly. "Why help me, Gambit?"

 

"Dey wanted you dead," Remy replied simply. "Can' let dem murder an ange…"

 

Warren accepted the sandwiches, but returned a still half full bag to the Cajun. "You look like you need the food more than I do."

 

Hungrily, Remy attacked the food. "Merci," he said and smiled brilliantly.

 

Warren took a deep breath. Remy was shoving the food as quickly as possible into his mouth. Almost looks like he expects me to take the sandwiches away again, he mused privately. "Where do we go from here?" he asked, shivering due to the moisture hanging in the basement. A million questions burned his lips, but what he really wanted to know is; Why did you save my life, LeBeau?

 

"I've got a friend in de cat'edral," Remy explained in a proud tone. "Père Etienne will help you." His face softened as he thought of the old priest. "He even gave me my name, Remiel… after de ange of mercy. And when I saw dose wings," Remy stopped himself just in time before he got carried away. Warren wasn't interested in this information. "I always believed in anges."

 

Warren swallowed hard, finally starting to understand why LeBeau was acting like this. "You lost your memory!"

 

"Oui," Remy admitted in a soft tone. "Don' know who I am. Only remember wakin' up in a hospital. Don' know who I am… but you do and… dat frightens me!" There, he'd said it! Trembling, he avoided Warren's blue eyes.

 

Everything finally sunk in. Remy's admissions suddenly made sense. But what about that 'I always believed in angels bit? The honesty in those words hit hard. LeBeau thinks I'm a REAL angel! Damn! Even the reverie in LeBeau's eyes made sense now. "Let's get moving," he decided eventually and took a first hesitant step. He had a lot of thinking to do and needed time to do that. His back hurt, but it was bearable.

 

"Mais oui." Remy moved quickly to support Warren and expected to be pushed away, judging from earlier reactions.

 

And yes, Warren considered pushing him away, but as he fell forward, he quickly held onto the arm LeBeau had slung around his waist. He hated being depended like this!

 

"I've got you, mon ange," Remy whispered softly. Thinking aloud he continued, "Père Etienne named me Remy… got no idea what my real name is and Gambit…"

 

Warren froze in his movements and stared at the Cajun. "Your real name's Remy." Why did he suddenly care about LeBeau? But the lost expression in those pleading eyes tore straight into his heart. How could he possibly stay angry with LeBeau, when the man didn't remember who he was? When the man had saved his life, without knowing he'd saved the life of a team-mate?

 

"Remy?" A smile flashed alive on his features. "Remy's my real name? How did père Etienne know dat?"

 

Warren couldn't help making the next remark. The absurdity of the situation got to him. "Maybe an angel whispered the name into his ear?"

 

Remy grinned awkwardly. Perhaps learning about his real identity wasn't that bad after all? Something in those blue eyes softened and reassured him a little. But the rage still hid underneath the blue surface.

 

Warren was shocked at his own reactions. What the hell was he doing; trusting LeBeau like that? The Cajun couldn't be trusted! But he couldn't stop himself from holding on tight as Remy pulled him along. There were a lot of unresolved issues between them and maybe it was time to start working through them!

 

///

 

It was still dark enough outside for them to make their way to the cathedral unnoticed. Warren let Remy guide their steps, realizing he had no clue where they were going. If it were up to him, he would immediately return to his hotel. He leaned heavily on the Cajun, but was still lucid enough to notice that LeBeau's steps faltered too.

 

"We should go to my hotel, not some deserted church," Warren objected again. His knees were about to give out on him and he'd probably take down Gambit as well should he fall. Although Remy was trying to act like he was fine, Warren distinctly remembered his bandaged wrist.

 

"Non, that would be stupid," Remy replied fatigued. He already explained this! "Whoever wants you dead is waitin' for you back at your hotel!"

 

Damn, Cajun's right! Warren hadn't really thought that far ahead, or maybe it was the painkiller that messed with his mind? "How much longer?" he asked, tired and eager to rest.

 

"We're almost dere," Remy said reassuringly and led them inside the abandoned crypts.

 

Suddenly, Warren realized where they were. "What are we doing here?" His skin turned to goose flesh as Remy dragged him passed the long forgotten graves. This place reminded him of the Morlock tunnels and it gave him the creeps!

 

"De dead can' hurt you," Remy whispered in a respectful tone. "And we can' hurt dem."

 

Warren gave him a questioning look, never expecting such a remark from LeBeau. It only served to remind him that Gambit had really lost his memory. He was determined to talk this over once they'd reached their destination.

 

"Père Etienne locks de doors at 20.00. Dis is our only way in." Remy looked about, picked the right corridor and gathered his last amount of strength. He practically dragged Warren through the corridor and he wasn't sure he could make it to père Etienne's rooms, tired and exhausted as he was.

 

"Gambit," Warren started, feeling the fierce flinch of the body supporting him and wondered about LeBeau's reaction. "I can't walk much farther." Truth be told, he felt like fainting every moment now.

 

Remy gritted his teeth and pulled his angel into père Etienne's rooms. "Père? You here?" he called out softly. The priest was probably soundly asleep, but as he peeked into the bedroom he found it empty.

 

Suddenly, Warren dropped to his knees and Remy went down as well. "De bedroom," he whispered. "You'll be warm dere."

 

Warren heard the words, but couldn't move. He felt paralysed and his injury acted up again. Warm blood dripped down the bandages. The wound had opened again.

 

As he looked up, Remy saw the pain in those blue eyes. Something warm dripped onto his left hand and his heart missed a beat, realizing it was blood. Can' give up now! Get to your feet! Remy chided himself privately. He swayed, but somehow he managed to pull Warren onto his feet as well. Slowly, he carried the nearly unconscious man into the bedroom. "Lie down," he instructed in a soft tone.

 

Warren suddenly realized what tight hold he had on LeBeau. His right fist refused to let go and had buried itself in Gambit's shirt.

 

"It's 'kay, ange. You're safe here… mais, I've got to redress de wound." Remy quickly retrieved the small bag and started laying out new bandages, balm and painkillers. Maybe he should give Warren something against the pain first. "Be right back."

 

Through half closed eyelids Warren watched him hurry into the kitchen. These last few hours had turned his world upside down. He desperately wanted to find out what had happened to Gambit after Antarctica, but he also realized that Remy didn't have any answers as long as he was amnesic. And what to tell the Cajun and what to leave out? Darn! He had so much thinking to do, but he felt so weak from the recent blood loss.

 

"Here, take dese," Remy kneeled beside the bed and slipped one hand underneath Warren's neck. "Dey'll take 'way de pain."

 

Warren stared at the pills in the palm of LeBeau's hand. He didn't have a valid reason to distrust the Cajun right now, but… 

 

But the suspicious look Warren shot him made Remy choke up. His angel didn't trust him and that hurt. "I won' hurt you," he promised in a burst of passion.

 

Hearing that last assurance urged Warren to lock eyes with Remy. Honestly, he hardly recognized the thief he'd once known in the man kneeling next to his bed. Remy's face was an open book, asking for trust and filled with a promise that he'd take care of him.

 

I hate him! Warren thought resolved. I hate LeBeau! He worked for Sinister and never told us! If he hadn't gathered the Marauders, the Massacre would never have happened!

 

Are you so sure about that? Warren's conscience replied in a berating tone. What if Remy LeBeau refused to work for Sinister? Someone else would have taken his place. Sinister wanted the Morlocks dead. Gambit never knew Sinister's real plan. Remy LeBeau was only an instrument and you know it

 

Shut up! Warren thought angrily. He never had the courage to ponder all possibilities, fearing the outcome. What if he'd misjudged LeBeau in the past?

 

"Ange? You listenin'?" Remy asked concerned. He was still offering Warren the painkillers, hoping the man would accept them. He hated the fact that his angel was in pain. "Changin' de bandages will hurt."

 

With a deep sigh, Warren nodded his head and swallowed the pills along with a sip of water. "Now what?"

 

"Lean 'gainst me," Remy said gently and picked up the balm and bandages. "Your wound's open 'gain."

 

Reluctantly, Warren obeyed and sat upright. Suddenly, Remy's hands pulled him forward until his head rested on LeBeau's shoulder. Feeling uncomfortable, he forced himself to remain motionless as Gambit removed the blood-drenched bandages.

 

Remy worked in silence, concentrating on his task and managed to remove the bandages without causing Warren pain. "Dat's better," he mumbled pleased. "De wound shows no sign of infection."

 

But Warren barely heard the words, struck by the tenderness displayed in Remy's ministrations. Each time those fingertips smoothed the balm over his back they expressed such care and caution that it made him look up into those red on black eyes. "Gambit?" he whispered eventually and again the Cajun's body rocked with tremors. Why did Gambit react like that whenever he heard his name? Warren tried a different approach. "Remy?"

 

This time, Remy looked up and felt courageous enough to lock eyes with Warren. "Oui?" He put away the balm and finished dressing the wound. Bien, that looked just fine.

 

Speechless, Warren stared into helpless eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled eventually. The question he'd originally wanted to ask, was forgotten. "You're not faking this," he realized in sudden understanding. "You have no idea who you are, or who I am," he stated with frightening certainty.

 

Remy tried to get to his feet, but Warren had a tight hold on his left wrist. Thankfully, it wasn't his right one, which pounded with pain. Lost for words, he couldn't offer Warren an explanation.

 

Eventually, Warren released him and shook his head. "You'll tell me what you remember when I feel better."

 

Remy nodded his head. "If dat's what you want, mais now you need to rest."

 

Again, the sincerity in that voice took Warren aback. Damn! Seeing the reverie in those eyes made him feel uncomfortable. I have to tell him I'm a mutant and no real angel! he realized just before falling asleep.

 

Pleased, Remy smiled and covered his angel with warm blankets. He'd start a fire in the fireplace to raise the temperature. Sitting down on the side of the bed he fingered a golden lock, savouring its softness. In the end, his angel had trusted him after all! Feeling victorious, he tucked Warren in and then left to start the fire.

///

 

Two hours later, Remy still sat in front of the fireplace. Warren was soundly asleep and not suffering from any nightmares, so Remy used these moments to think things over.

 

Gambit.

 

Instinctively, he knew it was his name, but he still hated it and it was obvious that Warren disliked his company. Warren only tolerated his presence because he had no choice! With a deep sigh, Remy tried to distract himself and read the instructions on his sleeping meds.

 

Père Etienne had convinced him to take one and he'd slept surprisingly well. But the priest wasn't here now and he had to look after a wounded angel. Although his eyes closed regularly, he struggled to stay awake. He had to be awake in case his angel needed him.

 

Slowly, feeling stiff and too old for his age, he rose from the floor. He threw the meds onto the kitchen table and then headed into the bedroom. Warren was asleep, resting on his left side and his wings covered most of the bed and pushed against the wall. Every so often, they quivered.

 

Unable to just stand there Remy approached the bed and sucked in a deep breath. Just one more time… he prayed privately. He wanted to touch those wings one more time, just to convince himself that they were fine.

 

Hesitantly, his left hand descended onto the left wing and he gently stroked the feathers. Warren released a strangled moan and Remy jumped back, afraid that his action would disturb his angel's sleep.

 

Mon ange. Slowly, he realized that he'd been thinking like that ever since this angel had crossed his path. His angel. He couldn't explain this reaction. It was something that went too deep for him to understand and it was probably tied to a past he didn't remember.

 

Mais oui, you're mon ange. I'll care for you as long as you need me. I won' let dem kill you. Won' let dem. You're bad off wid me as your protector. I can hardly defend myself and now I need to take care of you too! Mais I will do my best!

 

Remy pulled the mattress, which père Etienne had offered him, closer to the bed and lay down. Not goin' to take de meds, he decided saddened. Oui, he wanted to sleep without being tormented by nightmares, but he couldn't run the risk that Warren needed him. Sedated, he was useless to his angel. Non, it was his duty to keep a vigil and stay awake as long as necessary.

 

Five minutes later, Remy slipped into sleep without ever realizing it.

 

///

 

"These are your new wings… Death."

 

Warren screamed, as that ominous voice roared through his mind. Apocalypse's eyes stared at him and the abysmal face transformed into a mask of horror. "No!" he screamed in panic. "Don't do this to me!"

 

But Apocalypse didn't listen to his pleas. The bastard never had and again he re-lived the pain of those wings bursting from his back, settling against his shoulders with an awful heavy weight. "These aren't my wings!" Warren pleaded in a choked tone. "Please let me go!"

 

"No," Apocalypse's voice boomed. "I got plans for you!"

 

And then… then his mind jumped to the moment when the metal/organic wings gave way for his old feathered ones. An old man hovered above him, telling him that he was Apocalypse's servant. He instinctively knew that Apocalypse had planned this from the start and Warren tried to hide his fear. "What do you want from me?" he moaned in pain.

 

"Ange?" Remy quickly crawled over to the bed. He was alarmed, realizing that Warren wanted to leave his bed. "Stay, ange, you can' walk on your own!"

 

But Warren never registered the words. Apocalypse's face hovered in front of him and the words cut through his soul.

 

"Angel of hope," Apocalypse sneered. "How can you possibly think of yourself in that way? You don't bring hope. You bring death and destruction. You judge without compassion or understanding. Yes, you will make an excellent Horseman!"

 

"No." This time, Warren only managed a whimper. "Please leave me alone!"

 

Confused, Remy kneeled next to the bed. Warren struggled with the blankets, which wrapped themselves tighter around his fighting body "What can I do?" he asked helplessly. Remy knew only too well that nightmares could push someone over the edge, make someone violent out of fear. "Want to help."

 

From somewhere a different voice called out to him and it slowly pushed Apocalypse's face away. Gambit, Warren realized with a start; the traitor who was responsible for his misery! LeBeau had gathered the Marauders who had damaged his wings! His eyes flashed open and he wanted to lash out at the Cajun, when pleading eyes suddenly stopped him. Those eyes, Warren realized with a start, are filled with pain like mine. That realization calmed him down.

 

"You had a nightmare," Remy said awkwardly, trying to break the silence that lingered between them. He'd truly expected Warren to attack him. For one brief moment the hatred in those blue eyes had been aimed at him with frightening intensity. What had he done to cause such pain and why didn't the angel just tell him what a terrible bastard he really was? Warren certainly had a valid reason to hate him. What had he done in the past that justified such hate?

 

"I know that!" Warren snarled and leaned back into the pillows. Gambit's presence had pulled him away from the nightmare and for that he should feel grateful, but he didn't. After all, the thief had caused his pain in the first place!

 

"Want to talk 'bout it?" Remy suggested cautiously. " I felt better after talkin' to père Etienne. I'll listen… not talk…"

 

Warren considered the offer. Sooner or later, they'd have to face their past. Better start now. "Get me something to drink," Warren said in an authoritative tone. "Please," he added eventually.

 

Hearing that little word brightened Remy's face and he smiled. "Mais oui!" A moment later, he returned with a cup of père Etienne's herbal tea. "It's hot," he warned Warren and allowed him to take a small sip.

 

Warren sighed heavily. Remy's current behavior confused him greatly and he didn’t know what to say, or how to react to this quickly frightened Cajun. Best to handle this carefully. "Do you remember Apocalypse?" he said after taking another sip of his tea. Remy's fingers twitched and the Cajun's face grows pale. At least I'm getting some kind of response!

 

"Apocalypse?" Remy repeated mystified. The name set off a burst of fear, but he didn't know why. "Not sure?" he said eventually. "Mais I don' like de name. Did he hurt you?"

 

Remy's child-like manner put him off-balance and Warren didn't know how to reply. But in the end the words came surprisingly easy. "He violated my soul."

 

Remy shivered, remembering the old man that haunted his own dreams. "I'm so sorry," he admitted in a shaky tone. Now that they were opening Pandora's box anyway, he felt the time had come to ask his other questions as well. "Why do you hate me? What did I do to you? When did we meet? What kind of person am I?" He lost control over his emotions and quickly retreated to the doorway.

 

Warren pushed his back deeper into the comfort of the pillows and considered his answers. Damn, this was hard! When he'd first seen those eyes, he'd just wanted to lash out and hurt LeBeau for all the pain the Cajun had put him through, but something had changed.

 

He wasn't sure what had caused it, but he simply couldn't hurt Gambit intentionally. The expression in those demon eyes tore at his soul and Apocalypse's words returned to mock him.

 

Angel of hope? How can you possibly think of yourself in that way? You don't bring hope. You bring death and destruction. You judge without compassion or understanding/

 

That statement made him cringe in shock. Damn! Apocalypse was right! He always prided himself on bringing hope. His angel wings had always inspired him to fight for good, but time after time he'd failed. Yes, he'd judged LeBeau during that trial in Antarctica, telling the Cajun to defend himself, but… He'd never go as far as Rogue had. Straining his memory he tried to recall her words. She insisted that Gambit was to blame for the Massacre and that he'd betrayed their trust. That he solely was responsible for the loss of his wings and that he had finally been punished. Rogue had refused to go into details, but she'd told him that Gambit had died in Antarctica.

 

No, that's where I draw the line, Warren mused. I refused to defend him during the trial after learning the truth, but I'll never try to kill a teammate! This realization confused him a little.

 

"Ange?" Remy said concerned. The absentminded expression in Warren's eyes worried him. Slowly, he sneaked closer. Why wouldn't his angel answer his questions?

 

Warren shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. He still had a lot of thinking to do, but Gambit looked mortified and he couldn't stand that particular facial expression. Well, he was awake now and felt no desire to go back to sleep, so maybe this was the right moment to talk. "Sit down," Warren ordered and gestured at the side of his bed. Surprised, he noticed the alarmed expression in Remy's eyes. "You've got nothing to fear from me," he said reassuringly, wondering about that sudden fear in Remy's eyes.

 

Gingerly, Remy sat down on the bed and waited for Warren to continue. He shook violently, scared to finally learn the black truth about himself.

 

"Are you scared of me?" Warren inquired puzzled.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted shakily. "You're here to judge me."

 

"Judge you?" Warren asked questioningly. "Why do you think that?"

 

"You're an ange… You know every sin I ever committed. You're here to punish me, non?" Now that he'd said it, the possible outcome of this conversation no longer scared him. He could only hope that his angel would judge him fairly.

 

Displeased, Warren raised an eyebrow. He should tell Gambit that he was a mutant and no real angel, but he feared that it'd only intimidate the Cajun. Furthermore, he wasn't sure he should answer Gambit's earlier questions. It'd be too much information at once and Remy wouldn't be able to deal with it. No, he needed more information first.

 

"What do you remember, Remy?" Part of him could hardly accept that he was helping his former teammate, the man responsible for so much pain and death. But he was determined to prove Apocalypse wrong!

 

Remy shifted on the bed, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. "A few mont's ago I woke up in a hospital."

 

"Stop." Warren rested his head against the pillows. "What hospital? Where did they find you?"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Houston. I hitchhiked to get to N'awlings."

 

"Okay," Pleased, Warren stored away this information. "Carry on."

 

"De doctors realized dat I'd lost my memory and wanted to send me to an institution to recover."

 

Warren raised a hand to stop him. "Did you have other injuries? Or just the memory loss?" Remy's chaotic rambling didn't give him much information, maybe he should ask questions instead?

 

Remy shivered and avoided those blue eyes. "Why? Is dat important?"

 

"Yes, it is," Warren sighed exasperated. "We need clues to what happened to you after…" After Antarctica, he finished privately.

 

"Frostbite," Remy whispered, ill at ease. "My hands and feet hurt."

 

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," Warren replied pleased. That means he somehow found his way back from Antarctica… will have to find out how he did that.

 

After giving Warren a puzzled look, Remy added, "I was found wearing dese… do you know what dey are?" He doubted his angel would tell him, but he had to try and pushed up his sleeves. "De doctors can' remove dem."

 

Warren whistled impressed, seeing Eric the Red's shackles. Determinedly, his fingers explored the metal. The substance in the shackles prevents him from using his powers. That means… His eyes sought out Remy's. That means that he has no idea he's a mutant!

 

"Do you know what dey are?" Remy repeated his question, taken aback by the perplexed look in Warren's eyes.

 

"Yes," he replied eventually. "We'll have to find a way to get rid of them." Only now he realized that Gambit had never used his charging power when he'd saved him from the sniper. Now he knew why. "Once we get back to the hotel I'll ask a friend of mine to help us remove them." Warren nodded his head. Yes, Logan's adamantium claws would cut through those shackles like a hot knife through butter.

 

"Can' go to de hotel," Remy warned him again. "Dey're waitin' for you."

 

The stabbing pain in his back grew stronger and tired Warren. His next words stunned even him. "Remy, you need to clean that cut above your eye before it gets infected." His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Had he really said that?

 

"Will do," Remy promised, oddly pleased. He didn't know how to feel about the fact that he hadn't gotten his answers, but at least his angel wasn't that hostile any more. "Anyt'in' else you want me to do?"

 

Briefly, Warren closed his eyes. "Get some sleep, Remy," he whispered and cracked one eye open. Remy's ragged appearance told him that the Cajun had lived a hard life these last months. "We'll talk later."

 

Remy didn't even consider objecting and meekly lay down on the mattress. "You're bien?" he asked, concerned that the nightmares would return to torment his angel.

 

"Yes, I'm just fine," Warren replied softly, trying hard to ignore the pain shooting through his back. But he'd endured worse and knew that once he was asleep the pain would be forgotten. But before he surrendered to sleep, he stole one more glance at Gambit, who was asleep already. "Looks like we're in this together, LeBeau," he whispered melancholy and stared at the ceiling. His eyelids closed and he knew Apocalypse was waiting for him in his dreams. But this time red on black eyes flashed protectively in his mind, driving away the nightmare, leaving him in a peaceful sleep.

 

///

 

Warren first opened his eyes. Disorientated, he looked about. Where the hell was he? Then, slowly, he remembered everything. His next glanced at Gambit, still curled up on the mattress.

 

Moonbeams illuminated the bedroom and for the first time, he really saw the changes on LeBeau's face. Why had the Cajun thief to look this terribly young and lost? Curled up in fetal position, Remy looked completely helpless. The band-aid had slipped from his brow during the night and revealed dirty skin and dried blood.

 

Warren struggled to sit upright and finally rested his back against the wall. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off Remy, who mumbled in his sleep. If it hadn't been for LeBeau, he would have been dead now. Remy had saved his ass.

 

Last night's conversation drifted back into his mind. So, Gambit had woken up in a hospital in Houston? It was a long way from Antarctica to Houston… how had Remy gotten there?

 

Cautiously, he placed his feet on the floor, trying hard not to wake the sleeping Cajun. Remy looked like he desperately needed the sleep. Warren also wanted to know how strong, or weak, he really was. Could he make it to the kitchen by himself? He needed something to drink.

 

He stubbornly ignored the stab of pain that shot through his back. He could deal with the pain as long as his wings were all right! Looking over his shoulder, he released a sigh, seeing the white feathers, faintly stained with blood. He owed his life to LeBeau!

 

Gingerly, he rose from the bed and suppressed a hiss that threatened to leave his lips. Just ignore the pain! he told himself and took a first step towards the doorway. Suddenly, he remembered where LeBeau had taken him. This was a church, a cathedral. Why would Gambit seek shelter here? The Cajun was rich and could rent rooms in the most expensive hotels. Why not use the money on his bank account? Remy had showed of his credit cards more than once to pester him.

 

Because he lost his memory, you moron, his conscience replied impatiently.

 

Warren smiled bitterly and wished his conscience would finally shut up. It always reared its ugly head at most inconvenient times!

 

It took him several minutes to cover the distance, but eventually he stood in the kitchen area. He felt stronger and no longer suffered from vertigo. Remy LeBeau had taken great care of his injury, Warren admitted reluctantly.

 

Warren filled a glass with water and slowly emptied it. No matter what Gambit thought, Warren wanted to return to his hotel ASAP. He needed to take action against the assassins, or at least try and talk some sense into them!

 

His glance fluttered through the kitchen in search of food when they unexpectedly hit the meds, casually thrown onto the kitchen table. Carefully minding his injury, he sat down and stretched his long legs. His fingers turned the small box around. "John Doe," he read softly. "They really have no idea who he is… How did he get into the hospital? Who brought him there?"

 

Puzzled, he fumbled the instructions. Sleeping meds. Satisfied, he put it down and grabbed the second package. This one turned out to be a little more intriguing. It was a sedative, designed to slow down the neural activity in the brain. Looked like the doctors had hoped that once Remy felt safe and relaxed it would trigger his memories.

 

How does it feel? Warren wonders. Having no memories? Not knowing who you are and what you did? Briefly, he wondered if that was a curse or a blessing. He'd love to forget about Apocalypse! And I'm sure Remy has some personal demons as well. Sinister. Apocalypse almost destroyed me… I guess LeBeau feels the same way about Sinister. And for the first time, he felt some sort of connection to the Cajun. They'd both been used and then thrown away by mutants too strong to fight. Maybe, Sinister had forced Gambit to work for him, like Apocalypse had forced him to be his Horseman? It was an alarmingly unsettling thought! No! Warren objected. LeBeau worked for Sinister because…

 

Because what? His conscience acted up again. Did you ever ask Gambit why he worked for Sinister?

 

"He never told us," Warren mumbled uncomfortably. Even during the trial LeBeau had refused to give any extra information. "Okay!" he whispered angrily, "maybe I should have asked him!"

 

A moan coming from the bedroom attracted his attention and while taking a deep breath, he got to his feet. The short walk over to the kitchen had tired him. LeBeau had been right… again! He needed more rest!

 

As he entered the bedroom, he halted in his tracks. "What?" he whispered puzzled. Gambit had left the mattress and now sat huddled in the corner of the room. Knees pulled up to his chest, arms tightly wrapped around his legs, he was trying hard to hide his face in his hands.

 

Remy's body shook fiercely with remembered pain. In his dreams, his subconscious tried to show him what he had forgotten, but he fought the awareness. The pain was a terrible cold, a cold that slowly ate itself a way into his bones. The cold was unlike the chill he'd felt in the abandoned basement. This cold was in his very cells and made him whimper in pain.

 

Nothing could stop this cold. It was already halfway through his heart and marched on without hesitation, devouring the little hope he'd left. "Cold… cold…" he whispered his pain, wondering how much longer this would last.

 

Warren took a few steps closer and then remained motionless. Part of him remembered Gambit holding him close during his own nightmares, but could he do the same for the Cajun? Did he want to comfort a traitor?

 

"De Cold… why is it so cold?" Remy whispered in his twilight state and tried to hug himself even tighter, to no avail. The cold continued to burn his body, slowly and methodically. He no longer felt his feet or hands. They were numb.

 

Warren took a deep breath and sat down on his bed. His mind was at war with itself. Part of him wanted to see the Cajun suffer in misery, but then there was this other part that wanted to help, wanted to soothe, wanted to bring hope. Briefly, he feared going insane, as these sides of his personality tried to dominate his actions.

 

The snow now covered his entire body and Remy yelped his agony. Snow kept his eyes from opening and the cold weight pressed him deeper into the ice. It was so cold! Tears flowed down his face, tears which he couldn't cry while he'd been buried in ice. They'd have frozen solid in his eyes!

 

Warren wrung his hands. Damn! He couldn't bear to listen to those yelps any longer! Damn! He couldn't just sit here and let the Cajun cry and whimper! Surprised at his own reaction, he slowly lowered himself onto the mattress. Suddenly, the pain in his back no longer mattered! Why was he doing this? Why did he react like this? I hate him!

 

No, you don't, his conscience chided him.

 

This time, Warren didn't tell it to shut up, as he slowly realized it was the truth. He disapproved of Gambit's actions in the past, yes, but couldn't put all blame on the man sobbing beside him. "Gam…" Warren stopped himself just in time, remembering that hearing that name upset the Cajun. "Remy?"

 

Remy shuddered violently, but was too deeply tangled in his nightmare to respond. The cold had wrapped itself around him like a blanket, which suffocated him. Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, an awfully familiar voice roared in his ears.

 

"Non!" Remy exclaimed in dread as the old man took shape in his mind. The vile eyes devoured every inch of his body.

 

"Remy!" Warren tried again, displeased that the Cajun wasn't reacting. What else could he do to reach him? The sobbing turned into terrified moans and that worried him. And I thought my nightmares were bad! Awkwardly, he moved a little closer, cursing his injury. "Remy, can you hear me at all?"

 

The voice in Remy's head grew stronger. The old man yelled, cursed his stubbornness and suddenly, Remy realized why the old man was this damned angry. "I tried to escape," he mumbled and flinched as sharp nails dug into his throat.

 

"Escape?" Warren shook his head. "Escape from whom?" he asked concerned. Remy was getting worse, shaking himself to pieces. "Remy?" At a loss, he raised a hand and placed it on LeBeau's shoulder.

 

"DON' TOUCH ME!"

 

Warren crawled back at that sudden outburst of pain and terror. "Damnit! I'm trying to help you!" he hissed frustrated. Whatever tormented Remy in his dreams was extremely powerful and Warren wasn't sure he could break its hold. "Have it your way then!" Angry, he turned his back on the Cajun, whose body was tortured by erratic tremors. If you don't want help, that's just fine!

 

"Don' touch me…" Remy whispered in a sudden subdued tone. Fighting the old man never helped. There were too many other boys that would hold him down, as they wanted to escape a similar fate at the old man's hands. Why had he tried to run away? The old man would never let him go!

 

Frustrated like hell, Warren recomposed himself, hearing the soft sobs that left Remy's lips. Damn, he couldn't turn his back on the Cajun! In the back of his head he heard Bobby, calling him a softie. Well, Drake was the only one who knew him, really knew him! He didn't have a choice; he had to try again. There had to be a way to reach LeBeau!

 

Remy tried to avoid getting hit by the old man, but too many hands kept him in place. Sharp nails tore open his skin and he surrendered to the beating, knowing only too well that there was no way out for him. Unexpectedly, a kind face appeared in his mind. It was père Etienne, the only person he trusted.

 

Warren kneeled next to Remy, determined to give it one last try. "Remy?" he whispered and cautiously rested a hand on the Cajun's shoulder. "I want to help you," he said reassuringly, encouraged now that Remy had stopped shaking. "Let me help you." Was he really doing this? Was he really reaching out to this man, who he loathed so much?

 

"Père?" Remy whispered in a broken tone. The priest had only showed him trust and kindness and he craved entrusting himself to the old priest. "Père? Hold me? Please?" he begged softly, never expecting to be hugged, to be held close, but that was what happened. Strong arms enfolded him in a powerful embrace, promising protection.

 

Relieved, Warren sighed and rested his head against the wall. Remy was in his arms, holding on tight and crying against his chest. What the hell had scared the Cajun? What were his nightmares about? Warren wanted those questions answered.

 

"Jus' hold me…" Remy pleaded in a begging tone. He felt safe and protected in these arms and the old man couldn't reach him here. "The Antiquary…" he whispered shocked, suddenly remembering the man's name. "He hates me…"

 

"The Antiquary?" Warren repeated questioningly and stored the name away for future use. Would Remy remember that name once he was full awake? The sobs lessened in intensity. The emotional storm was over, but Warren couldn't bring himself to let go yet. Remy still trembled with fear. The Cajun still needed him.

 

"It's okay, Remy. Everything will be fine," he said soothingly. Suddenly, he felt trapped. What if LeBeau was playing him? A glance at the tear stained face, resting against his chest, destroyed this suspicion. Gambit wasn't acting. This was for real. "Who's the Antiquary?" Warren asked, hoping Remy was waking up.

 

Hearing that question almost freaked Remy out again. Suddenly, the arms holding him close were holding him prisoner and he screamed, struggling wildly to get away from his assailant. Distance, he needed to put distance between them!

 

"Remy, calm down!" Warren whispered urgently. His first reaction was to yell at the dazed Cajun, but something told him that it'd only push Remy deeper into hysterics! Damn! If only he had a clue to what the hell was going on! One moment Remy screamed not to touch him and the next, Remy begged to be held!

 

Remy finally managed to flee his nightmare and scared to death, he opened his eyes, fully expecting the Antiquary to loom over him. But all he saw were shocked blue eyes.

 

"Remy? It's okay. I'm not going to hurt…" Warren stopped mid-sentence, feeling like he was balancing on the edge of a revelation. He could only think of one reason why Remy would react like this, abuse. Was the Cajun reliving some childhood abuse? Warren realized that he had to act very carefully and said, "You're awake again, Remy?"

 

Ashamed of his behavior Remy stared at the wall. "It was jus' a nightmare," he stated, lying to cover up the truth, a truth he couldn't face yet. A truth, he didn't want to remember.

 

"I know about nightmares," Warren replied eventually, deciding against bringing up the Antiquary. He wanted Remy to calm down first. Remy looked like a cornered animal with no way out. Maybe a different tactic would work. "Can you help me back onto the bed? My back hurts."

 

Shakily, Remy reacted and pushed himself onto his feet. Forget de nightmare! he ordered himself. Mon ange needs help! Warren extended one hand and accidentally Remy offered his hurt wrist as support. As Warren's fingers closed around it, Remy failed to suppress a whimper of pain.

 

Warren let go at once and climbed onto the bed. "Let me have a look at your wrist," he said determinedly.

 

Remy shuffled his feet, uncertain what to do. When he'd woken, he'd panicked, having no idea where he was and who was with him. "I'm sorry," he whispered ashamed.

 

"Don't be," Warren said steadfast. "Now sit down and let me have a look at your injuries." This situation had certainly taken an unexpected turn. Here he sat, offering to check on Remy's injuries. Didn't he use to hate the Cajun? Confused, he postponed exploring his motives and feelings. "That cut's bleeding again."

 

"It's rien," Remy said dismissively and swayed on his feet.

 

"Stop being stubborn and sit down!" Warren ordered in an authoritative tone. His eyes had already noticed the first-aid kit at the head end of the bed.

 

Finally caving in Remy sat down reluctantly. "You don' need to do dis. I can take care of myself." Uneasy, he watched how Warren went through the content of the first-aid kit.

 

"You dressed my wound, didn't you?" Warren cunningly silenced him. "Now let me do the same or can I still not touch you?"

 

That last question caused shivers to run down Remy's spine. How much had he given away during his nightmares? "Don' like to be touched," he admitted gingerly. However, he didn't struggle as Warren disinfected the cut above his eye. "Mais you're an ange and won' hurt me, oui?"

 

Taken aback, Warren stared into Remy's eyes, gasping at the trust in them. He should tell Remy that he wasn't a real angel, but… could the Cajun's fragile mind deal with that information now? No, he had to wait a little longer. "I won't hurt you," he promised in an unguarded moment, surprising the hell out of himself with that vow.

 

Remy nodded his head after Warren put a new band-aid over the cut. "I knew dat from de start."

 

Shit! Warren cursed privately. It was unsettling, knowing that LeBeau trusted him unconditionally. It made him uncomfortable. "What happened to your wrist?" he inquired as he removed the dirty bandage.

 

"A fight." Remy looked away as Warren probed his wrist, which was still bruised. "Don' worry 'bout it," Remy said shyly. Why was his angel suddenly this interested in his well being and where had that hostility gone?

 

"Why were you fighting?" Warren bandaged the wrist again, impatiently waiting for an answer. "Well?" 

 

Remy cringed as he spoke next. "De bastard wanted to fuck me for money."

 

"What did you say?" Warren dropped the bandages and stared big-eyed at Remy.

 

"He wanted to fuck me for money!" Remy repeated at a loss. "He t'ought I was a whore!" Did he have to spell it out for his angel? Didn't Warren already know all this? He was an angel, wasn't he? Well, maybe, Warren didn't know everything?

 

Biting down his fury Warren threw the bandages onto the bed. What was he supposed to say or to do? Peeking at Remy's lowered and shame ridden eyes, he wondered about the man sitting next to him. "Did you manage to fight him off?" he asked hesitantly.

 

"Oui, dis time…" Remy admitted guiltily.

 

I don’t want to hear this! Warren didn't know how to handle this. The implications of Remy's answer were hard to grasp. "So, there have been times when you couldn't fight them off?" Please let him say no! The thought that one of his teammates had sold his body for money made him feel queasy. Or should I call it rape? Is that why he doesn't want me to touch him?

 

Remy didn't reply. His cut and wrist have been taken care of and now he wanted to get away from his angel, who asked too many unnerving questions. "Don' want to talk 'bout dat," he said evasively and lowered himself back onto the mattress. Curling up, he closed his eyes.

 

Lost, Warren let him. Remy's recent admissions shocked him. "Remy?" he whispered softly, realizing that all blankets were on his bed. The Cajun had to be cold now that the fire had died. Not getting an answer, he carefully leaned forward. His back acted up and he gritted his teeth.

 

Remy cried soundlessly. He didn't want to discuss the little he remembered with his angel. His angel was pure, untouched by evil and he couldn't talk about his pain. His angel couldn't understand him!

 

Tears flowed down Remy's face and Warren bit his lip. Angry with himself, he picked up a blanket and covered the shivering Cajun with it. I never knew, he thought apologetically. I never cared about your past. I judged you without compassion and understanding, just like Apo… he said. 

 

Gentle fingers moved through his hair during a heartbeat, offering comfort and apology and Remy stopped crying. His angel cared about him. With that consoling thought, he surrendered to exhaustion.

 

///

 

"Almost ready," Remy whispered privately, tossing the omelette. He'd woken minutes ago and his growling stomach had urged him to prepare breakfast. One look over his shoulder assured him that Warren was still asleep.

 

Somehow, his mind refused to believe that last night had really happened, but his wrist was neatly bandaged and the cut on his brow healing. His angel had really tended to his wounds! A most joyous, almost exultant feeling swept through him. He hadn't felt this good in months!

 

But there was also a downside. Last night, he'd admitted too much to Warren. He'd never planned on telling his angel about fighting his way out of the alley. But worst of all was that he was remembering things from his past.

 

Like the Antiquary. Merde! he cursed mentally as a slice of toast dropped onto the floor. Just thinking about the Antiquary made him shake with fear. And Warren knew about his nemesis as well! How could he have been so stupid to tell his angel! Warren would want answers, an explanation for last night's behavior.

 

That one question still rung in his ears, 'Or can I still not touch you?' Merde! His angel was getting too close to the truth!

 

As he carried all food items over to the kitchen table, Remy finally allowed himself to think about père Etienne who seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. Deep down in his heart he feared for the kind old man. Maybe something bad had happened to the old priest because père Etienne had shown him some kindness?

 

Remy shivered suddenly. What if the old priest had died because of him? Why else would père Etienne stay away for such a long time? Please, mon Dieu, he prayed. Please don' punish him 'cause he helped me!

 

Warren found Remy like that; fists clenched, eyes almost watering, self-loathing written all over his face. Warren cocked his head, feeling oddly in control of the situation. Last night he'd crossed a bridge when he'd soothed Remy and he started to feel comfortable near the Cajun.

 

Remy… When did LeBeau change into Remy? he wondered curiously. An incredible sadness covered Remy's face like a veil. Warren realized very well that there was a lot he didn't know about his former team-mate, but the things he'd recently learned, had shaken the foundations of his life. Someone he hated had saved his life. He'd always assumed that Remy disliked him as well, but now he wasn't so sure any more. Maybe he'd taken everything that had happened in the past too personally. Face it, Warren, you're not the centre of the world! he chided himself.

 

"Good morning," Warren said in a friendly tone. Seeing Remy jerk around to face him didn’t surprise Warren. The Cajun was easily scared and highly strung.

 

"Mornin'," Remy replied shyly and gestured at the kitchen table. "It ain' much, mais…"

 

"Come on, let's eat." Warren cautiously sat down. Although the pain in his back had lessened during the night, it was still there.

 

Reluctantly, Remy joined him. His hands trembled fiercely as he poured their tea.

 

"About last night," Warren started, but grew quiet, seeing Remy's unease.

 

"Won' happen 'gain, I promise," Remy whispered barely audible.

 

All right, so you're already on the defensive? Warren changed strategy. "I'm talking about the first half of the night, when I had that terrible nightmare," he clarified and caught Remy's surprised look. "Thanks for waking me up."

 

"You're welcome," Remy said in an awkward tone. "You need to eat."

 

"You need to eat too, Remy," Warren pointed out to him. So far, so good… now what? Slowly, he chewed the toast. "I found your meds last night," he revealed and watched Remy's reaction very carefully. The Cajun looked up questioningly. "Why aren't you taking them?"

 

"I don' like bein' defenceless," Remy replied in a whisper. Shifting on the chair he stared at the food. He'd only eaten a few bites, but his appetite had suddenly disappeared.

 

"They can help you get your memory back," Warren reminded him, but privately his thoughts strolled into a different direction. Or don't you want to remember? That actually makes a lot of sense, considering Remy's been through a lot.

 

"Can' survive on de streets like dat." Remy forced himself to bite off a piece of toast. He needed the calories if he wanted to stay in shape. Years on the streets and serving the Antiquary as a slave had taught him to eat whenever he could.

 

"You're not going back onto the streets, Remy," Warren stated determinedly. The dumbfounded look Remy gave him made Warren smile. "You're staying with me until you've got your memory back." In the back of his head Warren remembered something Logan once said, a truth he'd destroyed during the trial in Antarctica. 'X-Men take care of each other!' It was time he remembered who he was and what he used to stand for!

 

"Que?" Confused, Remy blinked his eyes. "What did you say?"

 

"I'm going to keep my eye on you," Warren repeated. And for several reasons. I want to know why you worked for Sinister and why this Antiquary scares the hell out of you. I don't even dare to think about the other things you mentioned, Remy. Did someone abuse you when you were a child? And did you survive by selling your body? Why did you have to tell me that? I don't know how to help you deal with all that! I'm a lawyer… not a psychologist!//

 

"Are you serious?" Remy's fingernails clawed into the wood of the kitchen table. This sounded to be good to be true! Couldn't be happening to him! He never got lucky! And now an ange offers to take care of me? Why would he do dat? But it felt so good when he held me last night. Wasn' 'lone any more… Temptation made it impossible for him to refuse the proposal.

 

"Yes, I'm serious," Warren assured Remy and leaned back. This chair worsened his backache. Later, he'd try spreading his wings to see if he was still capable of flight.

 

"Ange?" Remy started hesitantly. "I'm bad luck."

 

That actually brought a smile to Warren's face. "So am I!"

 

"You're an ange!" Remy objected strongly.

 

"We need to talk about this angel thing later," Warren said resolved. "But first we're going to eat and think of a way to get back to my hotel."

 

"Bad idea," Remy protested again. "Told you 'fore dat dey will be waitin' for you."

 

"Got to take that risk, Remy. The assassins won't give up."

 

"Assassins?" His knife dropped hard onto the plate. The word woke some distant memory in his mind, but it failed to surface.

 

"Yes, the assassins' Guild," Warren clarified, wondering if he shouldn't keep quiet instead. He disliked telling Remy white lies, but wanted to establish a safe environment first before talking to the Cajun about the X-Men. And as long as the assassins hunted him down, Warren didn't feel exactly safe.

 

Remy thought everything over. "We can stay here?" he offered.

 

"No, we'll try to get to the hotel once the sun has set. The night will supply us with some cover."

 

"Do you t'ink dey know you're here?" Remy said suddenly. "You were bleedin' when I brought you here… left a trail?"

 

"That would be bad," Warren acknowledged, "maybe they don't want to murder me inside a church?"

 

"We'll leave at night…" Remy agreed. "We'll stay here durin' de day." He didn't like this plan, but his angel seemed determined to do things his way.

 

"What about those meds?" Warren shoved the packages over to Remy's side of the table. "When do you plan on starting to take them?"

 

"Non." Remy shook his head. "Don' want to be drugged."

 

"They'll help you remember, Remy!" Warren got tired of the same old argument. "At least that way one of us won't have to deal with nightmares." When he'd read the instructions, he'd realized the sleeping meds would take away the nightmares. That was probably the very reason why the doctors in Houston had prescribed these particular drugs!

 

Remy had no argument to contradict that statement. As his eyes caressed those soft white wings, he knew he'd lost this fight.

 

///

 

"What are you doing?" Restlessly, Warren sat upright in bed. Remy was lying on his mattress, a pillow underneath his head, reading a book.

 

"What does it look like?" Remy quipped, feeling strangely at rest. That serene feeling probably came from the fact that he wasn't alone any longer. His angel had promised to stay close. He no longer had to fight this lonely battle on his own!

 

Remy was determined to use this little rest before they'd to venture out in the streets again. Hours ago he'd tried to change his angel's mind, but Warren had made it very clear that this wasn't up for discussion. Once it was dark, they were leaving!

 

"Give me that!" Warren lunged forward and managed to pry the book from Remy's hands. Remy smiled brilliantly at him and a strange, alien feeling shot through his soul. Confused, Warren studied the book.

 

"It's some sort of journal," Remy said and shrugged his shoulders.

 

"It's the Iliad!" Warren realized and grinned. "And you're reading it in Greek!"

 

That certainly got Remy's attention. "Greek?" he repeated amused. "I can' read Greek! You made a mistake! It's English!"

 

Warren's grin brightened. "This is Greek, Remy!" and threw Remy the book. Remy's confusion only grew and Warren tried to remember the little he knew about the Cajun's background. It's only logical that Jean-Luc LeBeau, patriarch of the thieves' Guild, would give his son an excellent education, though I'm a little surprised he knows Greek. What else don't I know about him? Probably a lot! But… hold on… Why don't I give Jean-Luc LeBeau a call once we reached the hotel? He can take care of his son and maybe I can convince him to use his influence on the assassins! Pleased, Warren nodded his head.

 

In the meantime, Remy struggled to decipher words he'd understood perfectly a moment ago. After Warren had pointed out to him that he was reading Greek, he'd suddenly lost all knowledge of that language. "Can' read it any more."

 

"Huh?" Remy's voice pulled Warren away from his musings. "What do you mean?"

 

"The words don' make sense," Remy said helplessly.

 

Warren swung his feet onto the floor, distressed by the sudden panic on Remy's face. "You read the book effortlessly until I told you it was Greek?" he summarized.

 

"Oui," Remy sighed and closed the book. "I don' understand dis. How come I can read Greek?"

 

Okay, Remy. Let's see how you deal with this. Warren placed his right hand on the Cajun's shoulder.

 

Surprised, Remy looked up. He managed to repress the shudder that almost rocked his body and waited for his angel to answer him.

 

"Maybe your father…" Warren started, but one dazed Cajun cut him short.

"Fat'er?" Stunned, Remy looked his angel in the eye. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Maybe he came to New Orleans because his family was here! "Never t'ought dat my père was still 'live," he admitted. "I don' remember him…" All he remembered was the Antiquary and the other street kids.

 

"I don't know that much about your family," Warren said patiently, "but I do know that your father lives in New Orleans. Once we're at the hotel, I'll tell him where you are."

 

That promise fed a deep ache inside his soul. "My père's still 'live?" Remy repeated in disbelief.

 

"Yes. His name's Jean-Luc LeBeau," Warren said cautiously, feeding Remy small bits of information. But I'm not going to tell him about the thieves' Guild yet. I want to talk to those doctors in Houston first and see what they recommend. Maybe it's best to wait until you're ready to remember? he wondered, mesmerized by the ecstatic expression in Remy's eyes.

 

"Jean-Luc LeBeau," Remy said slowly, tasting the name, hoping it'd sparkle his memory, but no face or voice appeared in his mind. Disappointed, he looked pleadingly at Warren.

 

"And yes, your name's Remy LeBeau," Warren said in a surprisingly gentle tone. Last night had taken away his anger, realizing Remy was even worse off than he was and he couldn't deny his desire.

 

You only want to prove Apocalypse wrong, his conscience reprimanded Warren viciously.

 

No! I do care! Warren protested, but wondered himself if he was lying. Remy totally confused him!

 

"Remy LeBeau," Remy whispered happily. "Merci for tellin' me."

 

Warren gave him a melancholy smile, knowing only too well that dark memories lurked in the Cajun's mind. How would Remy react once he learned about the Massacre and Sinister?

 

"Ange?" Remy wondered about the absentminded look in those blue eyes. Regularly, Warren's mind seemed to drift off. Should he worry about that? "Ange? You still listenin'?"

 

"Yes." Warren looked out of the window. "We should get ready. It's starting to grow dark outside."

 

With a deep sigh, Remy rose to his feet. He placed the book back onto the shelf, still puzzled by his ability to read Greek. Mon poppa. Mon poppa taught me!

 

Warren watched Remy move about, gathering bandages, balm, painkillers and food. Food? "Remy, we don't need food!"

 

"You never know," Remy objected, "want to be prepared in case somet'in' goes wrong!" He wasn't going to get into another argument, but realized darn well that these assassins would be looking for them.

 

"Don't forget your meds, Remy!" Warren got up from the bed and pointed the packages out to Remy. "Don't you even think about leaving them behind. Once we're safe, you're going to take them!"

 

"Merde!" Remy cursed loudly, but packed them anyway. He slowly realized how much he craved someone to take care of him. He'd been so long on his own, that's he'd forgotten how it felt to have a friend who worried about his well-being.

 

"Do you need help?" Remy asked and put the bag onto the chair. Warren was in obvious pain, trying to slip into his blood stained shirt. "Here, use my coat," Remy offered draped it over Warren's shoulders. "Warm 'nough?"

 

"Yes," Warren sighed. "Let's get moving. The sooner we're in the hotel, the better." Remy's reluctance to leave this sanctuary was written all over his face and Warren resorted to other tactics. "I'm sure your dad wants to know you're here."

 

That argument was Remy's undoing. "You win."

 

///

 

The LeBeau household

 

Jean-Luc LeBeau put down the report. "Dis information is accurate?"

 

The man who stood in front of the desk nodded his head. "The information is correct. Remy is in New Orleans. He was seen on several occasions, but disappeared each time before we could make contact."

 

"Dis is bad, Louis," Jean-Luc sighed. "De assassins and some of de thieves still want his blood! Why hasn't he contacted me?" Worried, Jean-Luc read the rest of the report. "Remy's wearing rags?"

 

The informant grew uncomfortable, seeing the frustration on his boss' face. "He's been begging, eating out of garbage cans and seen sneaking into the St. Louis Cathedral."

 

"Why didn't you bring him in?" Jean-Luc demanded to know. "De moment you see him, act! I don't want him roaming de streets! You know what happens once de assassins know he's back!"

 

"I will do my best, monsieur LeBeau," Louis promised. "I think he's still inside the cathedral."

 

"Bring him to me and make sure he's unharmed!" Jean-Luc rose from behind the desk and paced his study. "Non! Wait. I will attend to dis personally!" He couldn't take the risk that his men would screw up. His son was too important! "Get de limousine ready!"

 

Louis hurried out of the room. Finally alone, Jean-Luc banged his fist into the wall in frustration. He'd lost track of his son months ago, after the X-Men had gone on a mission in Antarctica. All he knew was that they'd returned without Remy. He had informants near Westchester, which had orders to warn him should his son return to the mansion and now Remy was in New Orleans?

 

"Why didn't you come to me, Remy? Why did I exile you?" A choked sigh left his lips. "Banishing you was the biggest mistake I ever made! I should have stood up to dose assassins! Instead, I let dem take you away from me! I failed you too many times, my son," he realized saddened.

 

"What's wrong with you, Remy? Why are you walking de streets like a ghost? No matter what happened in de past, you can always come to me… You must know dat!" Puzzled, angry and scared for his son's well being, Jean-Luc grabbed his coat.

 

"Whatever is wrong, I will fix it!" he promised passionately and gestured Louis to follow him. I'm going to get my son into safety!

 

///

 

Near the cathedral

 

"You're sure this is the right way?" Warren inquired worried. He still needed Remy's help to walk, but his wings felt fine. He was sorely tempted to try and spread them and take to the sky with Remy, but that was definitely a bad idea. They'd make an easy target.

 

"I got a hideout near your hotel," Remy assured him as he scanned the nearly empty street. Being responsible for his angel's safety made him extremely cautious. "You bien?" he asked to be sure. Warren leaned on him, but seemed to hold his own.

 

"Yes, I'm fine, keep walking!" Warren looked about. The hair at the back of his neck stood rigid. "Someone's watching us."

 

"Oui, feel de eyes too," Remy whispered in return. "We should go back to de church."

 

"Can't go back now," Warren decided, wishing Remy wasn't wearing those shackles. His charging power would come in handy right now. "How much longer?"

 

"Five more minutes," Remy replied thoughtfully. "We need to cross the street first," he informed Warren. As they reached that particular crossing, he pulled his angel into the cover of an alley. "Dis feels wrong."

 

"I know that." Impatiently, Warren searched the street for suspicious looking cars or people. "Once we're crossing the street, we got no cover at all!" What if he took the to sky and flew to the penthouse? He measured the distance. I might be able to do that if I was alone, but I can't leave Remy behind. I need to stay close to him!

 

"Ange?" Worried, Remy shook his head. "No use in waitin'. We do dis now or we go back to de church." Remy literally smelled the danger.

 

"You're right," Warren admitted frustrated. "We'll make a run for it."

 

"Non." Remy locked eyes with his angel. "Dat way, we draw attention. We need to walk slowly. De other people crossin' de street are our only cover."

 

Reluctantly, Warren gave in. "Whatever happens, stay close!" Acting on impulse, he grabbed Remy's left wrist.

 

In spite of their miserable situation Remy smiled. "Merci for carin', mon ange," he whispered barely audible.

 

Warren choked up, hearing the honest gratitude in those words. "We really need to talk about this angel thing," he said with a half smile. Determinedly, he nodded his head. "Let's do this!"

 

Remy fell into step next to him and Warren suddenly realized that the Cajun trembled. "We're almost there," he said encouragingly, but as he finished his sentence, the dreadful noise of metal racing through the air filled his ears. His sharp eyes immediately located the three daggers coming towards them.

 

But Remy recognized the danger as well. The daggers cut themselves a way through the air and his angel was the target! He only had seconds to make up his mind and act. Saved his life once, can do it 'gain!

 

Warren's heart missed several beats as Remy catapulted himself into the air, knocking him onto the concrete in the process. "NO!" Warren screamed petrified. The daggers missed him because Remy used his own body to protect him! "No," he whimpered in dread as one dagger clawed itself a way into the Cajun's left side. The smile that Remy gave him was filled with bliss and pride.

 

"Dey won' kill you," Remy moaned the words as he went down. A terrible pain doubled him over and something hot dripped down his thigh. Kept my promise.

 

Warren caught Remy before the Cajun hit the concrete. Quickly, he gathered Remy in his arms. Shocked, he stared at his bloodstained hands and the small pool of blood he kneeled in. "No," he sobbed softly. "Don't die on me!"

 

Don't die FOR me! Warren stared at the heavens. That dagger had been meant for him! Not for Remy! Why did you jump in front of me? In shock, he pulled the unconscious Cajun to his chest, hoping the assassins would get it over with quickly and kill him as well.

 

///

 

Jean-Luc's heart thumped loudly in his chest as he was forced to watch how the assassins' daggers found their way through the air. His eyes scouted their route ahead and then his heart stopped beating momentarily. "Remy!" he whispered shocked.

 

His son leaped into the air, throwing his companion onto the concrete. One of the daggers ate itself into his side. "Non!" he hissed in anger. "Faster, Louis!" He couldn't be too late! He had to safe his son's life. Only then he remembered that Remy wasn't alone.

 

A blue skinned man with white wings struggled hard to get to his knees. A keening wail left the man's lips and he gathered Remy in his arms. Terror shone from his blue eyes. A terror, which also ruled Jean-Luc's eyes.

 

Jean-Luc had studied the X-Men when his son had joined them and recognized the mutant named Angel. But the blue skin was a surprise. When had that happened?

 

Determinedly, Jean-Luc bit his lip. Even from this distance it was clear that his son was bleeding and no longer conscious. He refused to think of the obvious reason; Remy couldn't be dead!

 

The Elixir of Life would strengthen his son sufficiently to survive such an injury! Administered in small quantities Remy had never realized what he'd been fed and Jean-Luc knew only too well he should have told his son a long time ago. But then disaster had struck and Remy had been forced to leave New Orleans. But now he's back! Jean-Luc chided himself. And he needs my help!

 

///

 

A car slithered towards them, suddenly coming to an abrupt stop. Warren didn't want to take his eyes off Remy, even felt angered at the sudden intrusion, and glared at the small group of men now exiting the limousine. Looks like the assassins want to gloat at their handiwork! Angered, he pulled Remy close and suddenly grew aware of the steady rising of the Cajun's chest.

 

He's still alive! Warren realized in a crazed state. Forgetting about the newly arrived group, he frantically searched for a pulse. Yes, the Cajun was still alive!

Got to make sure he stays that way! All his earlier thoughts of giving in so the assassins could finish him off, were gone. Suddenly, he had a reason to fight for his life, and that reason was Remy LeBeau!

 

"You've got to hold on, Remy!" he whispered resolved and tried to get to his feet, carrying the Cajun. But the unconscious man weighed heavy in his arms and he started to fall. Unexpectedly, strong arms steadied him. "Take me, but let him go!" Warren whispered, hoping the assassins would listen.

 

Jean-Luc's hands trembled, knowing that the assassins' dagger could be poisoned. He had to act quickly and could ask questions later. "Monsieur Worthington," he started, "Give me my son and get into de car!"

 

Warren never heard the words. Someone was trying to pry Remy from his arms and he couldn't allow that. "I'm not giving him to you!" he stated determinedly.

 

"We're wasting valuable time!" Jean-Luc realized and pulled Warren towards the limousine. "Get inside!"

 

This time Warren moved. It seemed like the assassins wanted them both, so be it, but he wasn't abandoning Remy, not again!

 

Jean-Luc jumped into the car as well, gesturing his men to search for the assassins and take care of the bystanders. "Louis! Drive!" he ordered and sat down next to Warren, aching to hold his son as well. But Warren's expression told him that the X-Man was in shock and wouldn't let go until he'd been coaxed into feeling safe.

 

Feeling paralysed, all Warren could do was stare at Remy's closed eyes. The Cajun's lips were still curled into a smile and a deep anger burned Warren's mind. "Why the hell did you do that?" If Remy hadn't tried to protect him, the Cajun would be just fine! Warren didn't know if he would have been fast enough to move out of the daggers' way and now they would never know! "You shouldn't have done that!"

 

Jean-Luc has had enough and slipped one arm underneath his son's shoulders to lift him slightly. Immediately, Warren tightened his hold on the Cajun and Jean-Luc let him. All he wanted to do was to examine his son's wound. Although Remy bled profusely, Jean-Luc quickly realized that the dagger had missed his son's vital organs. "Press hard!" he ordered and pushed Warren's hand onto the wound.

 

A soft mew escaped Remy as the pressure increased and Warren flinched hearing that sound. "I never wanted this to happen!" he whimpered regretfully. "Don't die on me, Remy!"

 

Jean-Luc gritted his teeth. He'd known there would be trouble when his men had reported his son's return. "Can you tell me why you're here?" he asked Warren and reassuringly stroked his son's soft hair. Remy looked worse than Jean-Luc remembered. Remy had lost weight and dark circles had formed underneath his son's eyes.

 

With a quick glance Jean-Luc inspected the cut above Remy's brow and as his hands searched for more injuries, Jean-Luc encountered the bandaged wrist. "Worthington!" he cursed, "Start talking!"

 

But Warren wasn't paying any attention to the raving man next to him. He was trying hard to stop the bleeding by applying sufficient pressure. He never expected the Cajun to try and protect him! My God, I misjudged you, Remy! That realization almost made his eyes water. That foolish Cajun really thinks he has to protect an angel!

 

Never before had Warren felt more unworthy of wearing that name. Angel, Archangel, fancy names but they don't mean a thing without the right man doing them justice and I… His thoughts spun as his eyes finally released tears.

 

Jean-Luc watched them with mixed feelings. He understood that Warren felt guilty because Remy had got hit instead, but Remy was his son and he wanted to comfort him! "Louis, make sure doctor Mansour is at de house when we get back!" Merde, he curses privately. Mattie chose a bad time to visit her relatives. He didn't expect her back for days!

 

"Remy?" Warren whispered respectfully. "Please fight!" His fingers were covered in blood, but it felt like the bleeding slowed down. With his other hand he gently turned Remy's head until the Cajun's face rested against his chest. Remy's long legs dangled down the seat and Warren leaned in closer, hiding his own face in the Cajun's hair. "Don't leave me!"

 

Warren didn't give much thought to his reactions, knowing they'd been through a lot these last few days. He'd almost convinced himself that he was coping… that was until Remy had decided to sacrifice his life so he could live. "Why did you do it?"

 

Jean-Luc sighed heavily, counting the minutes until they'd reach his house. Louis had assured him that the family's physician would arrive simultaneously to attend to Remy's injury. Being this helpless infuriated him. "Angel!" Jean-Luc says on impulse, as he didn't remember Worthington's first name. He wanted an explanation!

 

"Why are you doing this?" Warren asked as he locked eyes with the man sitting next to him. "You want to kill me, let him go!"

 

"I don’t want to kill you," Jean-Luc rectified, suddenly realizing why the X-Man was this uncooperative. "I'm no assassin. My name's Jean-Luc LeBeau and I'm here to claim my son!"

 

"Son?" Warren repeated in bafflement. He'd never seen the patriarch of the thieves' Guild before, but slowly things started to make sense. "You wear the same idiotic rain coat!" he stated near hysterics. "We're safe?"

 

"Oui, de assassins won't try anything as long as you're with me," Jean-Luc reassured the X-Man. "And we're almost home!"

 

"LeBeau," Warren lunged forward and grabbed the collar of Jean-Luc's coat. "Remy's lost his memory. He doesn't know who he is, who I am, who you are… be careful!"

 

"Mon Dieu!" Jean-Luc's eyes flashed dangerously and locked on Remy's face. "Dat's why he didn't come to me!"

 

"He doesn't know he's a mutant… Remy thinks I'm a real angel." Suddenly, it was very important to him to that Jean-Luc knew what was going on. In his dazed state he was terrified that Jean-Luc would let something slip that would upset Remy.

 

"Listen," Jean-Luc said, eager to gain control over this situation. From the corner of his eye he noticed that the bleeding had almost stopped, but his son still needed medical attention. "Let me take care of everything, monsieur Worthington!"

 

"Yes," Warren sighed and leaned back, clutching Remy to his chest. "He wanted to die for me," he stuttered confused.

 

"Dat's Remy." Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Dat's my son, too damn eager to please!"

 

The words ripped into his mind. I wronged him! Warren bowed his head in defeat as shame flowed through his veins. The limousine came to a sudden stop and made him look up. "Where are we?"

 

"Home," Jean-Luc replied and took a deep breath. "Let me carry my son," he demanded. Warren was in no state to carry his unconscious son and judging from the newly appeared blood on the X-Man's shoulder, Angel was injured as well. "I'll take care of him," Jean-Luc promised.

 

His heart grews heavy, but eventually, Warren nodded his head. "Be gentle," Warren insisted. His hands shook as the warm body slipped into Jean-Luc's arms.

 

"Monsieur Worthington, you need a doctor as well." Jean-Luc pulled his son close to his chest. "I've got you, Remy!" he said passionately.

 

Louis helped Jean-Luc lift Remy from the car. Jean-Luc said, "Keep an eye on de X-Man!"

 

"I'm not leaving Remy!" Warren insisted in a calm tone. "I'm coming along!"

 

He didn't have the time to argue and Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Come on den!"

 

Together, they made their way into the house. Remy hardly weighed a thing and the wound was bleeding again now that the pressure was gone. "Hold on, son," he whispered softly.

 

///

 

Several minutes later Jean-Luc assisted doctor Mansour in getting Remy undressed. Astonished, Warren looked at the well-equipped medical lab in LeBeau's basement. Even Hank would start drooling seeing this!

 

Warren watched their every move, for some reason feeling very protective of Remy. Maybe it still hadn't fully registered yet that the doctor had assured them that the injury wasn't life threatening.

 

"You sit dere, monsieur Worthington," Jean-Luc instructed, "and don't get in our way. Doctor Mansour will have a look at your injury in a moment."

 

"My wound's healing just fine," he waved away the concern. "What about Remy?"

 

"He won't die," Jean-Luc assured Warren again, without mentioning the elixir. Outsiders didn't need to know the Guild's secrets! With endless care, he stripped off Remy's sweater.

 

Warren's eyes grew big. It wasn't the injury that makes him gasp. It was the fine web of scars woven into Remy's skin. "My God, what?"

 

Jean-Luc ignored Warren, helping the physician to clean the wound. Although Remy was stable it was a nasty and painful wound.

 

"Those scars…" Warren whispered stunned. "How did he get them?" Not getting an answer, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Jean-Luc. He vividly remembered Remy's admission after the Cajun had had those nightmares. Had Jean-Luc beaten Remy or…? Wish I knew more about Remy's childhood, but Jean-Luc LeBeau doesn't seem the abusive kind, though you can never tell…

 

"Clean the wound," doctor Mansour instructed and handed Jean-Luc some clean bandages.

 

Jean-Luc simply obeyed, gently wiping away the blood. "How bad is it?"

 

The doctor gave his patriarch a reassuring smile. "Remy has dealt with worse. He'll be fine after a few days of rest. It's only a flesh wound."

 

"Merci mon Dieu!" Jean-Luc whispered and then glanced at Warren, who was uncharacteristically quiet. "Are you all right?" he asked concerned. If his son was willing to die for this man, he had to take care of Worthington.

 

Warren stared at Remy's face. Those alien eyes were still closed, but there was movement underneath the eyelids. The scars on Remy's body saddened and angered him at the same time. "Who did this to him?"

 

Surprised, Jean-Luc locked eyes with him. "De assassins threw de daggers."

 

"Not the dagger," Warren hissed between gritted teeth. "The scars!"

 

Etrange, Jean-Luc studied Warren carefully. I didn't know dey were dis close. My informants never told me. As he thought of a suitable answer, Remy moved slightly underneath his hands. Briefly, he hoped that Remy was regaining consciousness, but his son didn't open his eyes.

 

Doctor Mansour told him to pull Remy upright so he could bandage the wound and Jean-Luc reacted at once. He sat down on the exam table, pulled Remy gently in an upright position and rested his son's body against his chest. His fingertips caressed the countless scars.

 

"Was it the Antiquary or did you do this to him?" Warren's voice was solid steel.

 

Jean-Luc could hardly believe that accusation and turned around with a vicious expression on his face. "I would never hurt my son!" A second later, he realized what Warren had just said. "What do you know about de Antiquary?"

 

Now that the doctor had finished with tending to Remy's injury, he moved over to Warren. Obediently, Warren leaned forward so the physician could examine his injury. "It's the only thing Remy remembers," Warren sighed in pain as the doctor removed the bandages. His wound stung painfully.

 

Jean-Luc gently lays Remy down on the exam table and covered his son's body with a warm blanket. "The nightmares," he stated with certainly.

 

"Yes." Warren flinched as the physician checked the wound. "In his dreams he begged this Antiquary not to touch him. He didn't allow me to touch him when he woke, but after he realized he was safe he begged me to hold him."

 

"This is healing properly," the doctor said approvingly. "Remy didn't forget the lessons I taught him in first aid."

 

Warren and Jean-Luc stared into each other's eyes. Now what? Warren thought confused. The doctor had redressed his wound and slowly, Warren rose to his feet. Step by step, he approached the exam bed. "What did that bastard do to Remy?"

 

Jean-Luc averted his eyes. Ashamed and feeling terribly guilty he stalled answering that question. He'd never told his son that he'd stolen Remy from the hospital, delivering Remy into that devil's hands. "De Antiquary hurt him," he said eventually.

 

Warren pulled the chair closer and sat down again as his knees threatened to give out on him. Suddenly, all recent events overwhelmed him. "You're sure he'll survive?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc assured him, "Remy's strong."

 

"I need to tell you about the assassins," Warren realized and took a deep breath. Why was he stroking back auburn locks? Why was he dying to touch Remy? Too tired to ponder these questions, he simply sat there, caressing Remy's soft hair.

 

Jean-Luc watched them closely, dismissing the doctor after telling him to stay close and then walked over to Warren. "We should move him to his room. He will feel a lot safer dere when he wakes up. Remy hates medical labs."

 

A ghost of a smile crossed Warren's features. "Yes, Hank once mentioned something like that." He sat back and briefly closed his eyes. He was awfully tired and wouldn't mind lying down himself.

 

With utmost care Jean-Luc gathered his son in his arms and lifted him from the exam table. I've got you back, Remy and dis time I won't fail you!

 

///

 

Jean-Luc tried to take care of the threat of the assassins. With talking he tried to convince them to stop targeting Warren. But that proved rather difficult as their minds were set on upholding their reputation. The only solution was to make sure that Remy and Warren left New Orleans as quickly as possible.

 

His head still reeled with the information Warren had supplied him with. Jean-Luc leaned back in the chair in his study, tapping his fingertips on the armrest. Remy was safe in his room and would continue to sleep for at least one more hour. Worthington refused to leave his son's side for even one second, something Jean-Luc admired, but it also made him wonder. Why was Warren so determined to stay close to his son?

 

Merde, Dis is such a mess! I finally got Remy back and now it turns out dat he has amnesia! Mon Dieu! I don't dare to think of what could have happened to him out dere on de streets if de assassins had recognized him! A dark, terrifying thought sneaked inside. What happened, my son? Warren tells me dat you've have been living on de streets for weeks. He even told me about de bastard who nearly raped you! When I get my hands on dat pervert…

 

He desperately wanted to go upstairs and hold his son's hand. But in his heart, he knew that it'd never again be the way it'd been before. After exiling Remy their relationship had gone downhill and he hadn't even visited Remy when he'd been with the X-Men! He'd made these mistakes and Jean- Luc would have to pay the prize, which might be his son's love.

 

One day I'll have to confess my shame to him. I delivered him into de hands of evil. If I hadn't obeyed de Antiquary Remy wouldn't have been hurt. Dis is my fault! Why did I agree to steal him from dat hospital? Even after all dese years I don't know why Remy is dis important to de Antiquary.

 

The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders as he struggled to his feet. He'd left tante Mattie a message, telling her to hurry home, but it'd take her some time to get back. Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath to compose himself. He had to be strong now, had to be strong for Remy, who needed him. Or will I lose him a second time?

 

///

 

Two hours later, Warren still sat in the chair next to Remy's bed. Jean-Luc had offered him the guest room, but he'd refused. He wanted to be close to Remy. Now that they were safe, his personal demons haunted him and as he looked them in the eyes, he recoiled, realizing how arrogant and self-centered he had been these last years. No wonder Bets and he'd been such a 'perfect' match. We were both in love with ourselves, he realized with self-loathing.

 

Looking at Remy, he realized his mistake. Arrogantly, he'd thrown away a possible friendship. But all was not lost yet. Remy was alive and maybe the Cajun would give him a second chance?

 

His hands rested on the side of Remy's bed and his eyes slowly searched the room, which was nothing like he'd thought it would be. A big four-poster bed took up most of the classically furnished room. Near the stain glass window stood a heavy desk and an armchair from the time of Louis the Fourteenth, which looked comfortable and cosy.

 

Paintings from renowned artists gave the room a fresh and warm appearance and an easel stood in the corner of the room. A palette, still carrying traces of mixed paint rested next to it. Thick, red carpet covered the floor and the dark wooden furniture reminded Warren of his father's study.

 

"Remy?" he whispered softly and leaned in closer. Remy lays on his back, soundly asleep. Warren still remembered the obvious affection in Jean-Luc's gestures when he'd tucked his son in.

 

"Can you hear me?" Hesitantly, he raised a trembling hand and rested it on Remy's brow. The urge to touch the Cajun wa overwhelming. I just want to make sure he's fine, not developing a fever!

 

That's not true! His conscience berated him. You want to touch him because you care about him!

 

With sudden apprehension he pulled back. "I don't need to touch him to know he's fine!" His fingertips burned from touching Remy's skin. What the hell's wrong with me? Why do I want to touch him so badly? Puzzled, he tried to create some order in his chaotic thoughts.

 

Remy's luscious lips drew his glance and unexpectedly, he wondered what it'd feel like to kiss them. Kiss him? Kiss Remy LeBeau?

 

Shocked, he pushed back his chair. A strangled moan fled his lips. This couldn't be happening! Damn! I felt this way when I was falling in love with Bets and… All of a sudden things fell into place. I can't be falling in love with him! I don't like men in that way!

 

But what if? Terrified by this unexpected revelation he clasped his hands in an attempt to beat the urge of wanting to stroke the auburn hair. I'm not gay... bi or whatever you call it! I like women, not men! Oh my God, this can't be happening! It's stress! I can't…

 

"Monsieur Worthington?" Jean-Luc entered his son's room and wondered about the horrified expression in his guest's eyes. "Remy will be fine," he said, hoping to soothe the man's worries. "He won't die."

 

Oh my God! That's not it! I can't stay here! I've got to get away from him! Warren fought down his rising panic.

 

Jean-Luc slowly approached the bed. "Is something wrong?"

 

"No," Warren managed to whisper. He couldn't show his confusion and had to act like everything was fine. Concentrate! Find something else besides Remy to talk about!

 

"I talked to de assassins. Dey won't give in. I suggest you stay inside as long as you are here." Jean-Luc pulled up the armchair and sat down opposite Warren. Out of habit, he gently took hold of his son's hand and rubbed the knuckles. "We need to talk about Remy."

 

"Of course," Warren replied automatically, but his mind wandered off. I can't be in love with a man That's wrong!

 

Jean-Luc mentally reviewed all new information and eventually asked, "How did Remy end up in a hospital in Houston?"

 

I don't want to have this conversation! But Jean-Luc wouldn't leave him alone until the Cajun knew the whole sordid truth. "Things went awfully wrong when we were in Antarctica and Remy had to find his own way home. I asked him that same question, but he doesn't remember what happened after most of us left." Rogue's visit flashed in his mind. Suddenly, he grew suspicious of her motives. Why had she been so damned pleased about the fact that Remy had died?

 

I always wondered about those two, Warren admitted privately. I just don't buy it that she loved him. Rogue is… cold. Can't really explain it, but… it always felt like she kept him at a distance, playing him. Although Rogue had helped him escape Apocalypse's control, he didn't trust her, never had. Maybe it was because Bobby idolized her at times? I still think Bobby is or was in love with her and love makes blind.

 

"Monsieur Worthington?" Jean-Luc clasped his fingers around Remy's, knowing every inch of that skin by heart, knowing each scar intimately. He'd kissed those scars when Remy had been a child, as it had been the only way to make the boy's emotional pain go away. Even now, he felt the urge to lift those agile fingers to his lips and kiss the pain away. Only tante Mattie and he knew how much Remy still craved such expressions of affection. Damn de Antiquary!

 

"You should call Houston and see what the doctors say. Remy's been asking about his past and I just can't tell him…"

 

"What?" Jean-Luc closely observed his guest, realizing Warren was holding back.

 

"Did Remy tell you about the Morlocks and the Marauders?" Warren shifted in his chair.

 

"Non, but my informants did. Remy doesn't know I 'spied' on him dese last few years." Jean-Luc actually brought Remy's fingers to his lips and kissed the knuckles. He ignored the odd look Warren gave him, determined never to feel ashamed for the love he bore his son. He'd never shy back from showing Remy how much he cared for him!

 

"I still don't know why he worked for Sinister and…" Warren grew quiet. I no longer care about finding those answers. I just want him to heal!

 

"I suggest we only tell him things that won't make him feel threatened. I know my son. Remy's vulnerable." Jean-Luc lowered Remy's hand and covered it with his. "Remy, do you remember me?" he whispered questioningly. "Or do you no longer remember your poppa?"

 

Entranced, Warren stared as Remy's eyes fluttered slightly. "He's waking up."

 

Jean-Luc considered his next action. "Talk to him, Remy knows you, trusts you." He wanted to play this safe. Seeing Warren first would reassure Remy that everything was fine.

 

"Shouldn't you do that?" Warren objected weakly, unwilling to look into those enchanting alien eyes. He knew that looking into those eyes would weaken his resolve to leave New Orleans as quickly possible. He needed to get away from Remy!

 

Remy slowly opened his eyes, testing the brightness in the room. Relieved, he opened them completely. Never t'ought I was goin' to survive… or is dis hell? Can' go to heaven… He felt lazily fatigued. It was a pleasant feeling and he didn't fight it.

 

"Ange?" Remy whispered hopefully. Please let mon ange be 'live! The possibility that those daggers had ended his angel's life made him tremble violently.

 

Jean-Luc gave Warren an encouraging nod.

 

Reluctantly, Warren leaned in closer so Remy could see him. "I'm just fine, Remy." Those red on black eyes found his and Warren barely suppressed a choked moan, seeing the intensity in them.

 

"Bien," Remy mumbled contented and smiled weakly. "Hope I didn' scare you."

 

"You gave me a heart attack!" Warren exclaimed and forced himself to calm down again. "Don't you ever do such a thing again, Remy!"

 

"Can' let dem murder an ange…" Remy was getting tired again, but had to convince himself first that Warren was real and not a hallucination. His right hand snaked over the blanket in search of Warren's. "Please?" he pleaded, wanting to feel his angel's touch.

 

Warren swallowed hard. Remy, don't… Only a moment ago he'd been determined to flee the Cajun's touch. But how could he deny Remy? The Cajun had almost died for him!

 

Satisfied, Remy sighed as warm, long fingers curled around his. "Merci…"

 

"Remy, you need to rest," Jean-Luc chose this moment to make his presence known. Apprehensively, he waited for a reaction. Would Remy recognize him?

 

Surprised to hear another voice, Remy cocked his head. In the end, he managed to focus his eyes and he forgot to breathe as he looked into warm eyes. This man, his face… that voice…

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc tried to put all the love he felt for his son into that one word. Remy's eyes locked with his and Jean-Luc smiled reassuringly. "You're home, petite," using the nickname he'd given Remy so many years ago. 

 

Warren grew worried as Remy tightly squeezed his hand. "Remy!"

 

But Remy couldn't take his eyes off the man's face. He knew that face… This man had held his hand before… had held him when he'd had nightmares, had kissed his brow, had helped him readjust to life after he'd finally escaped the Antiquary. This man had been his anchor for years… and had shown him that there was food in abundance and that no one would take it away from him... had allowed him to cry in those strong arms. This man was…

 

"Poppa?"

 

///

 

"Poppa?" Remy repeated in bafflement and suddenly became aware of the fact that Jean-Luc was caressing his fingers. That gesture felt so damn reassuringly and familiar that he tried to sit upright to get closer to his father.

 

"Don't, Remy," Jean-Luc said quickly, applying minor pressure on his son's chest. "Don't try to sit up. You're wounded." The feelings moving through him were intense. He'd been afraid to hope that Remy would remember him, but his son had done just that! The stare in Remy's red on black eyes was awfully familiar. Jean-Luc knew that lost expression only too well.

 

But he also knew how to deal with his son. If what Warren had told him was true, Remy had to relearn using his mutant powers and he chuckled softly, remembering all the things Remy accidentally charged and blew up in those early days.

 

But there's also a dark side they'd have to confront. Shivers run down his spine. They'd have to discuss the Antiquary and the abuse his son had suffered. But they'd dealt this problem before, he could deal with it again and this time he'd tell Remy the absolute truth. No more white lies, no more holding back. He wanted an open relationship, no more lies!

 

Remy tried to smile, but grew uneasy as his father remained quiet. Had he done something wrong? He'd never felt this lost before, knowing instinctively that Jean-Luc struggled with something. Afraid to speak up, Remy concentrated on their physical presence. Jean-Luc held his left hand and his angel his right. Feeling cherished, his gaze shifted from Jean-Luc to Warren.

 

Warren felt completely lost. Remy's eyes cut through his soul and he could no longer deny the truth; he was falling in love with the Cajun! He cursed the fact that he couldn't get up and simply walk away from this. He owed Remy big time. The only thing left to do was to act like nothing had changed and try to come to terms with this attraction. Hopefully this feeling would fade away quickly!

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc smiled warmly, seeing the confusion on his son's face. "You're back in your old room. I hoped it'd make you feel more comfortable. You know who I am?" he asked eventually, wanting to test Remy's returning memory. What did his son remember? What was Remy still locking away?

 

Confused, Remy locked eyes with Jean-Luc. "I don' really know," he whispered.

 

"What do you know?" Jean-Luc pressed on, still rubbing his son's fingers.

 

Suddenly, without thinking the words flowed from Remy's lips. "You saved my life when I was little… took me in when I tried to steal your money."

 

"Oui, dat's right." Jean-Luc smiled kindly. "I adopted you."

 

Warren looked up. This was new to him. You're not his real father? Yet another mystery he had to solve. "Adopted?" Warren said questioningly.

 

Remy and Jean-Luc exchanged looks. "You want to tell him, son?" Jean-Luc wanted to know what else Remy remembered.

 

Slowly, Remy nodded his head, equally curious to find out what memories would surface. "I was… ten?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc replied relieved, reminding himself to take this slowly. He had to try and concentrate on the good things that had happened to Remy. They could deal with the bad stuff once Remy had healed. "I adopted you when you were ten."

 

A weak smile flowed from Remy's face. "I escaped de…" he didn't really want to say the word, but he had to, "de Antiquary and had no place to go."

 

"You tried to steal my wallet, you scoundrel!" Fondly, Jean-Luc smiled at him. How could I ever hand over a baby to de Antiquary? Remy will pay de price for my mistake de rest of his life!

 

Remy cocked his head and sent a beaming smile in Warren's direction. Contrary to Jean-Luc, Warren's fingers felt icy cold. Concerned, Remy tried to lock eyes with his angel, but Warren averted his. A sting of sadness moved through him and Remy wondered why his angel didn't want to look at him.

 

Jean-Luc picked up on the sudden chill and gently squeezed Remy's hand. "You turned de LeBeau household upside down, petite. You ran up and down de stairs, plundered de food supplies and hid underneath my desk to get my attention. You kept me busy, you still do!"

 

Warren stared at Remy's nimble fingers, which rested in the palm of his hand. Those fingers had bandaged his wound, had tangled in his hair as Remy had soothed him after his nightmares. In spite of Remy's sordid past, the Cajun had never been afraid to touch him when offering comfort and all Warren could think of was mimicking Jean-Luc's earlier action. He wanted to lift those fingers to his lips and kiss them one by one, suckling their tips.

 

Shocked by his own desires Warren felt miserable. Hesitantly, he moved his fingertips over the back of Remy's hand, rubbing the skin in a soothing manner. As he absentmindedly caressed those long fingers, something Jean-Luc had said finally sunk in. He was ten? Remy was ten when Jean-Luc adopted him? A revelation hovered at the edge of his mind and he tried hard to grasp it.

 

My God! Warren yelped mentally. Does that mean the Antiquary abused him for ten years? Ten long years filled with pain? Oh no, and he ended up on the streets after he escaped? He had to survive somehow until Jean-Luc found him. Warren couldn't imagine the terror Remy had been exposed to in the first years of his life and helplessly, he sought out Remy's eyes.

 

How could Warren ever think the red on black eyes were arrogant and cocky? Why had he never looked passed that mask? Why had he never seen the pain hiding in them? It broke his heart, realizing what being a slave to the Antiquary had done to Remy. "I'm so sorry," Warren mumbled in an unguarded moment, earning a puzzled glance from Remy.

 

"Ange?" Remy whispered, taken aback by the regret that shone from Warren's eyes.

 

"I only now realized…" Warren sought out Jean-Luc's eyes. "What he did to you."

 

Still puzzled, Remy wanted to ask Warren for an explanation, but Jean-Luc shook his head no and Remy remained quiet. Why were both these men so awfully protective of him? He could take care of himself! Had been doing that his entire life!

 

However, Jean-Luc had a pretty good idea what Warren had just realized. He didn't like to think or talk about the Antiquary himself, but for his son's sake he'd face the sorcerer one day. Banishing him from the thieves' Guild hadn't been punishment enough!

 

"I'm such a bastard," Warren mumbled absentmindedly, barely registering Remy's protest. "You don't know what I did to you, Remy." Warren raised his head and stared at the ceiling, remembering his failure at the trial.

 

He never tried talking to the Cajun, find out what kind of person Remy was. It was like Apocalypse had said, he'd judged Remy without compassion or understanding.

 

"Warren?" Remy tried again, this time ignoring Jean-Luc's warning eyes. "What's wrong? You're in pain?" he asked, remembering the sniper attack. "Did someone look after your wound?"

 

Warren couldn't take this any longer and abruptly released Remy's hand. After all the Cajun had been through Remy still worried about him? Disgusted with his own behavior, Warren rose to his feet. Remy's big eyes tore at his soul. The last thing he wanted to was to leave the Cajun, but this was best for both of them. "I need to make some calls," he said apologetically and started for the doorway.

 

"Ange?" Remy tried calling him back, although Jean-Luc told him no. What had happened just now? Why had Warren jumped to his feet like that? He desperately craved learning those answers.

 

"Let him go, petite. He'll be back," Jean-Luc whispered. "We'll take turns sitting with Remy, won't we, monsieur Worthington?" He figured out by now, why Warren was this reluctant to leave his son's side. It was guilt. Whatever had happened between Warren and his son was still unresolved. If there was one thing he had learned in his long life, it's that running away would only make things worse.

 

Warren turned his back on Remy and Jean-Luc, as he didn't want them to see his facial expression. His lip trembled and his hands turned into fists. Why would Remy want Warren to sit with him? He messed up so badly!

 

"Worthington?" Jean-Luc pressed on, worried by Remy's saddened eyes.

 

"Yes," Warren said eventually, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every passing second.

 

Smugly, Jean-Luc smiled at his son. Whatever was going on, he'd find out the truth. "You see, petite? He'll sit with you when I can't."

 

Warren mumbled something intelligible and marched out of the room. Yes, he needed to call the mansion and talk to Wolverine. Although Logan and he never got along, he knew that Wolverine couldn't deny this request. The Canadian's claws were the only substance that would cut through Remy's shackles.

 

"Poppa?" Remy looked up at his father, fighting his growing fatigue. "I didn' remember you…"

 

"I realize dat, otherwise you'd have come to me." Jean-Luc took a deep breath. "You got any questions for me?"

 

Gingerly, Remy nodded his head, but he was afraid to actually ask this question.

 

"Come on, son, speak," Jean-Luc encouraged him in a gentle tone.

 

"De… Antiquary… can he still hurt me?" Remy lowered his eyes and stared at Jean-Luc's hand. "I still don' remember everyt'in'," he explained awkwardly.

 

"Dat man will never again lay a finger on you," Jean-Luc promised passionately. "You're safe here, my son. No one can hurt you here."

 

Relieved, Remy's eyes closed. "Merci, wasn' sure," he whispered fatigued. "Poppa?"

 

"Oui?" Jean-Luc leaned forward and kissed his son's brow.

 

"Look after Ange for me? He needs someone to take care of him," Remy whispered and smiled warmly. "I like him."

 

"You always had a thing for angels," Jean-Luc replied with a soft chuckle. "Don't worry about him, Remy. I'll keep an eye on him for you. Anything else?" He smiled, already knowing Remy's answer.

 

"Hold me?" Remy said hesitantly, remembering how it used to feel, surrendering to his father's love and care. If it hadn't been for this man he wouldn't be alive today. After he'd got away from the Antiquary he'd considered taking his life. Only Jean-Luc had stood between him and his death wish.

 

"Mais oui," Jean-Luc whispered affectionately. He slipped one arm underneath Remy's shoulders and leaned in closer, holding his son tightly. "I used to rock you. It was de only way you would go to sleep."

 

Remy smiled melancholy, as Jean-Luc cautiously rocked him in his arms. "Je t'aime, poppa," he mumbled pleased and contentedly.

 

"And I love you too, my son. I always will," Jean-Luc promised, rocking his son in his arms. If it weren't for the injury, he'd pull Remy upright and wrap his arms around his son. "Now try and rest. I also want your promise dat you won't try to leave your bed."

 

Remy chuckled. "Does dat mean you don' trust me, poppa?"

 

"I know you, Remy. You'll get bored and den…" Jean-Luc cupped his son's face in the palm of his hand and looked deeply into his eyes "Let me care for you, Remy, like I did before. You're not alone in dis."

 

Fatigued, Remy smiled lazily. "Will stay in bed, I promise."

 

"Bien!" Jean-Luc exclaimed satisfied, laid his son down gently and pulled up the comforter. "Warm enough?"

 

Silently, Remy nodded his head. He felt completely at peace and cherished.

 

"I'll sit with you for now. Later, your friend will take over." Resting his back against the chair Jean-Luc smiled as Remy's eyes closed completely. "Sleep and have sweet dreams, my son." A solitary tear slipped down his check. If anyone deserves wonderful dreams, it's you, petite. Still holding onto Remy's left hand, he sat there, truly enjoying watching his son sleep.

 

///

 

Feeling uncomfortable, Warren sank down onto his bed. Louis had shown him to his guest room and he had to admit Jean-Luc had excellent taste. The room was richly furnished and actually made him feel welcome.

 

But he couldn't deny that his thoughts were somewhere completely else, in another room in the same wing. Remy… All he could think about was Remy and the way he reacted to feeling that skin underneath his fingertips.

 

"Focus!" Warren said angrily and picked up the phone. Jean-Luc's men would probably listen in on the call, but that didn't matter, as they'd discussed calling the X-Men. Warren dialed Logan's personal phone number. "Come on, be there!"

 

"What the hell? Who's this? It's 4 in the mornin'!"

 

"Logan, it's Warren."

 

"That figures!" Feeling grumpy, Logan considered terminating the call. But something about this felt odd. Why would Warren call him in the middle of the night? He sat upright in bed, pushing a pillow underneath his neck. "What do ya want, Wings?" It was no secret they couldn't stand each other. That made this call even more suspicious. "Yer in trouble?"

 

Warren took a deep breath, hearing the disdain underneath the polite tone. "I'm not in trouble, not any more," he started thoughtfully. "But I do need your help."

 

"MY help?" Had Logan misheard? "MY help, Wings? Why?"

 

"I need you to come to New Orleans," Warren said cautiously, uncertain whether he should bring Remy up just yet.

 

"New Orleans?" Logan's eyes narrowed. "What are ya doin' in Cajun country?"

 

"Are you coming or not? I'm not kidding, Logan. I need your help." Frustrated, he wished there was another way of getting those shackles off, but this was the only thing he could think of.

 

Reluctant to commit to this, Logan grabbed a cigar. "Give me a reason why."

 

Warren banged his fist into one of the pillows on the bed. It felt oddly liberating. "Can't you just trust me this once?"

 

"Why would I?" Logan countered. "I'm perfectly fine here in Westchester."

 

Warren considered his alternatives, but he couldn't tell Wolverine about Remy yet. He didn't know if Remy wanted the X-Men to know that he was still alive. "I can't force you, Logan, but…" he almost bit off the tip of his tongue speaking this last word, "Please?"

 

This got Logan's attention. Warren sayin' please? That's definitely a first. "Kay," he gave in. "Will take me a day or two to get there. Bobby and Scott are on some mission and took the Black Bird."

 

"Logan?" Relieved, Warren laid down on his left side. "You won't regret it. Thanks." Now that Logan had agreed to help he just wanted to get some sleep.

 

"Don't thank me yet," Logan warned him. "And this better be good!" Irritated at the interruption Logan terminated the connection. What the hell had gotten into Warren? The man sounded worried… Well, he'd find out shortly.

 

///

 

Warren stripped and threw his clothes onto the floor. He was tempted to take a shower before getting some sleep, but couldn't drag his tired body away from the bed. His eyes closed and a contented sigh left his lips. Maybe everything would turn out just fine.

 

Remy would regain his memory and Jean-Luc would help his son get to terms with everything. The moment Logan arrived Warren would leave New Orleans. Hopefully, by that time this absurd attraction had died as well.

 

Flexing his wings, he spread them and moved onto his stomach, giving them room to relax. The puncture in his right wing no longer bothered him and his back stopped aching after the doctor re-bandaged it. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it underneath his head. Totally relaxed, he pulled up the comforter and allowed himself to fall asleep.

 

///

 

"Ange? Wake up… Ange."

 

"What?" he mumbled sleepily. "Don't want to wake up." Warren's having the most fabulous dream…

 

"Cher… cher?" 

 

Suddenly recognizing the voice Warren felt the heat next to him. "Remy? What…?" The Cajun was in bed with him, face partly hidden underneath the comforter. All Warren saw were mischievous eyes, which twinkled at him. "Remy…?"

 

"I'm here, cher…"

 

The obvious longing in that husky voice sent shivers into Warren's soul. "What are you doing here?" Viciously, Warren pulled back the comforter, eager to get Remy out of the bed and back to his own room. "You should be resting!"

 

"I'm resting," Remy quipped delighted and demonstratively licked his lips, "Want me to prove dat to you, mon amour?"

 

Now that the comforter was on the floor, Warren realized his mistake. "You're naked!" he yelped helplessly. Yes, pulling back the comforter had definitely been a bad idea, but…

 

The Cajun had a gorgeous body. Remy was lying on his back and his long legs were spread wide in a seductive invitation. A flat and muscular stomach shone with minuscule sweat and the Cajun was clearly aroused, as his erect cock leaked pre- ejaculate. 

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Warren whispered breathlessly. The only time he'd seen other men naked had been in the communal shower after training in the Danger Room and that had never turned him on! But now his cock had been erect within seconds and pounded for release.

 

"You're hard, cher," Remy mumbled and grinned wickedly. "Need me to take care of you? Can do dat for mon ange…"

 

In disbelief, Warren stared at the agile fingers that slowly wandereddown his naked chest. Relieved, Warren remembered that he was still wearing his boxers. That would certainly stop the Cajun! Why was Remy acting like this? For that matter, why was the Cajun is his bed?

 

But Remy quickly slipped a bold hand passed the waistband.

 

"Remy, stop… don't do this!" Warren exclaimed dazed, as determined fingers closed around the base of his cock, which grew even harder. Involuntarily, he thrust against that warm hand. "Remy, don't," he repeated in a trembling tone.

 

A melancholy, even lost expression filled the Cajun's eyes as he spoke, "Know your secrets, ange. You want to fuck me, don' you? Dey always want to fuck me," Remy whispered saddened. "Accepted dat when I was little, but please… don' offer me money or a place in heaven?" he continued pleadingly. "Will do dis because I love you… not 'cause I'm a whore…"

 

"Rem!" Warren screamed in sudden anger as those dextrous fingers fisted him wildly. What did the Cajun think he was doing? Remy's words made no sense at all. "Stop babbling and stop touching me!"

 

But Remy crawled onto all fours, licking his lips. "Let me take care of you…" he whispered seductively. "Will let you fuck me, mon ange…"

 

Stunned, Warren stared into dilated pupils. Remy's eyes were heavily draped with lust or was it something else? Was it love? "Stop this, Rem," he commanded in a calm tone, for some reason feeling completely in control of this situation. Roughly, Warren grabbed Remy's wrists, determined to stop the Cajun from making a fool of himself.

 

But Remy reacted by rubbing his lower body against Warren's erection and for one moment Warren considered throwing the Cajun on his back and taking him. What would that feel like? Burying himself in Remy LeBeau's willing body… thrusting into that warmth, feeling a tight heat clenching him?

 

"Don' fight yourself, Ange," Remy whispered with pain in his voice, as he managed to free his wrists.

 

An alien sadness suddenly washed through Warren, seeing Remy's true agony. His rage faded as begging hands roam his body for warmth, once more fisting him. Warren shook his head in firm determination. "I don't want this," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Not like this."

 

"Mais you do, Ange," Remy corrected him, leaning in closer. His lips descended onto Warren's smooth chest and he greedily suckled one hard nipple. "You want to hurt me… Will let you…"

 

"You're talking nonsense!" Warren insisted calmly, but held his breath as the Cajun raised himself, manoeuvring his body into position. Suddenly, the tip of his cock touched Remy's warm entrance. "I don't want this," Warren repeated sternly. "Not like this. I don't want to hurt you!"

 

"You hate me," Remy said regretfully and pushed down. "You hate me 'cause you love me."

 

"Stupid Cajun!" Warren's snarl was filled with repressed desire and passion. Maybe he wanted to take the Cajun, but not like this! Quickly, he brought up his arms behind Remy's back before the Cajun could impale himself. In one smooth movement he rolled Remy onto his back and straddled his hips. Once again, he grabbed Remy's wrists and held them tightly above the auburn hair. "What are you trying to do? Make me rape you?"

 

Unshed tears simmered in his red on black eyes. As Remy finally spoke his accent was heavy. "'ave been raped 'fore, not'ing new… Jus' one more homme who can' love me… an' I t'ought you were different, bein' an ange…"

 

"Rem, I want you to calm down now and…" Warren started, but halted as Remy's words penetrate his mind. His gaze softened and he hoped Remy heard the affection in his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you, Remy. I want you…" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Remy cut him short.

 

"Do you? Do you really want me?" Remy's voice was subdued, balancing between hope and fear of rejection. "Can you love me, Warren Worthington?"

 

Infuriated and saddened at the same time, Warren stared into alien eyes and then fell towards seductive lips, claiming and bruising them with his passion. "Maybe I can love you, Rem…" he whispered helplessly.

 

Startled, Warren's eyes flashed open, expecting to look into Remy's orbs, but instead he stared at the ceiling. His hands were empty, no longer restraining Remy's wrists and he was alone in bed. A dream! It was just a fucking dream!

 

Bathing in cold sweat Warren struggled upright. His breath came in ragged spurts and his hands shook as they clawed into the comforter. Disorientated, he tried to recompose himself. "It was only a dream!" he repeated, trying to reassure himself.

 

Remy never was in his room, never acted that out of control. It was just a dream! But a dream I need to think about. The things Remy said… Is my subconscious playing tricks on me or do I really want to hurt him? Hurt him because he makes me feel like this?

 

Shocked, he swallowed hard and swung his feet onto the floor. That dream had seriously upset him! Spreading his wings, he threw back his head in a desire to feel free. His feet no longer touched the floor now that his wings moved softly. I can still fly!

 

A moment later, he stood in the centre of the room, looking sheepishly at his pounding erection. He couldn't deny that this particular dream had aroused him. But at the same time it made him feel ashamed, even embarrassed, because Remy had accused him of wanting to hurt him.

 

"That's not true! I don't want him to… hurt," Warren whimpered softly. Marching into the bathroom he headed for the shower. He wished Bobby were here to ice the water up for him.

 

After he moved underneath the chilling water he bowed his head and finally allowed himself to mentally review the entire dream. Remy's words had touched something deep inside him. Yes, maybe he'd wanted to hurt the Cajun in the past in whatever way possible, but things had changed. God help him, but he cared for Remy, was in love with him, but he had no idea what to do with that infatuation. His erection refused to go away as long as the Cajun haunted his thoughts and eventually he curled his fingers around his aching cock. Slowly, he touched himself and felt ashamed because he imagined that Remy was stroking him to release.

 

"I've got to forget about Remy! This is wrong! Me getting aroused because of that dream is wrong!" Emotionally drained, he fisted his cock, arched his back and shot his completion into the beam of cold water. "I am not in love with him!" he maintained. "I'm not!"

 

///

 

"Monsieur LeBeau? We need to talk." In a hurry, Warren marched into Remy's room, determined to tell Jean-Luc's that he'd leave in a few hours. But his eyes were magnetically drawn to Remy, who was still asleep. Concern took over and Warren tiptoed over to the bed, locking eyes with Jean-Luc. "Did he have nightmares?" All thoughts of leaving suddenly fled his mind. Remy had managed to turn onto his side and was now curled up in foetal position. Looks like the stab wound doesn't really bother him.

 

"Doctor Mansour gave him sleeping meds," Jean-Luc informed him, realizing what puzzled the X-Man. "Did you already call de hospital in Houston?"

 

"No, I still have to make that call," Warren mumbled and shuffled his feet. In his dream Remy's body had felt warm and now that he was awake, he couldn't get the picture of Remy crawling over to him on all fours out of his head. But mixed into the lust and passion, which he felt for the young Cajun, was also regret and compassion for what Remy had been through in his short life. That dream had made him think and it still puzzled him; the way Remy had talked to him, the choice of words… the sensual movement of his body… had it just been a fabrication of his mind or had it been something else?

 

"When will he wake up?" Warren asked, determined to leave the room before Remy opened those hypnotic eyes. He couldn't face Remy right now. He was already trying hard not to blush at the memory of that dream.

 

"In a few hours, I reckon. Why don't you sit down and keep us company?" Jean-Luc wanted to talk to Warren, find out where the X-Man stood. 

 

Warren's wings were spread and Jean-Luc definitely understood why Remy had assumed Warren was a real angel. If it weren't for the blue skin, he might have been fooled himself! Jean-Luc watched Warren sit down, realizing his wings were uncomfortable in certain situations.

 

Warren manoeuvred his wings into place and then waited for Jean-Luc to speak. Jean-Luc seemed uncharacteristically quiet and Warren knew instinctively that the patriarch was contemplating everything he'd seen and learned about Remy during these last few hours.

 

Jean-Luc released a soft sigh. He knew his son too well and had long recognized the signs. Remy's falling in love with his angel. We need to tell him de truth and we need to do it fast! It's so like Remy to fall for an 'angel,' Jean-Luc mused slightly amused. Although Jean-Luc wasn't prejudiced this development worried him. Remy thought that Warren was a real angel and… Remy's been seeking redemption his entire life. Warren can't take away his shame or pain, but Remy t'inks dat. Merde! 

 

He wanted his son to be happy and it didn't matter what gender Remy's love had, though it still puzzled him why Remy also felt drawn towards men. Men had hurt him tremendously in the past and yet… If there was one thing Remy had taught Jean-Luc it was that love was genderless, ageless and endless. It was time to address this matter and Jean-Luc looked Warren in the eyes. He needed to take this slow and test the waters first. "What do you know of my son?"

 

"Too little," Warren confessed, wondering how to get out of this, but Jean-Luc's brow was determined. "I only know the things that happened after he joined the X-Men and what you told me a few hours ago. About Remy being adopted and the Antiquary, that's it." He felt a little guilty for his ignorance, but remembered that the other X-Men, except for Storm, had never tried coaxing the Cajun into talking.

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. If he was going to do this, he'd do it right. Remy was falling in love with Worthington and Jean-Luc wanted Warren to know what he was throwing away should Warren chose to walk away from Remy. Dere really are no second chances… Jean-Luc thought saddened.

 

"I'll always remember de first dinner we shared," Jean-Luc started and rubbed Remy's fingers. As he locked eyes with Warren, Jean-Luc's voice grew stronger. He wanted Warren to understand who Remy was, what Remy'd been through and why his son was the way he was. "I took Remy home after de boy tried to pick my pocket." He smiled warmly. "Even back den he had potential."

 

Although Warren was determined not to get drawn in by Jean-Luc's words, he had to admit defeat. Closely, he listened to Jean-Luc's voice, which sounded calm and in control.

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head, remembering finding the boy. He'd never told Remy that it hadn't coincidence that the young boy had had an opportunity to get close enough to him to try and steal his wallet. He'd been searching for the small boy since he'd sprung Remy from the Antiquary's collection. Unfortunately he'd had lost sight of the boy after they'd made it out of the building.

 

"Monsieur LeBeau?" Warren wondered about the saddened eyes and addressed the patriarch, suddenly realizing how badly he wanted to learn more about Remy.

 

"Tante Mattie immediately took a liking to de boy and after she made dinner we led Remy into de dining room. At de sight of steak, baked potatoes, vegetables and dessert Remy halted in his tracks. I told Remy to wash his hands first before sitting down at de dinner table, but he ran over to de food. Within seconds, he'd stuffed de food in his shirt and tried to make his way back to de doorway, but finding it blocked, he crawled under de table. "

 

Warren raised an eyebrow. "I noticed something too… When we shared some sandwiches he acted like he expected me to take them away from him again. Why?"

 

"De Antiquary," Jean-Luc said with obvious contempt in his voice. "Dat bastard starved Remy and used food to make him obedient, but it didn't work. It only weakened Remy's body, not his determination." Resuming his story, Jean-Luc said, "I joined him under de dinner table and when I grabbed his arm to tell him that he could eat as much as he wanted, Remy froze completely, muttering apologies in a choked tone. He begged me not to beat him, or lock him up, dat he would give back de food and…"

 

Angered and shocked, Warren's eyes grew big. "But he was only ten? How can you starve a child?"

 

"De Antiquary's a vile man," Jean-Luc explained with guilt in his heart. "He wanted to break Remy… still don't know why."

 

Okay, this explains Remy's behavior when it comes down to food, what else do I need to know? Warren waited for Jean-Luc to continue.

 

Jean-Luc understood Warren's questioning look and continued. "When I took Remy in, he was hopelessly scared. Whenever I raised my arm to point something out to him Remy flinched, scared dat I was going to beat him. Each time dat happened I cursed de Antiquary for doing dis much damage. Remy's eyes were always lowered. De Antiquary convinced him dat people hated him because of dose eyes."

 

A deep anger boiled in Warren's mind. "I can't imagine what it must have been like for Remy…" Hearing this infuriated him. Why had no one protected Remy? Where had his parents been? Later, he'd ask those questions once Jean-Luc was done.

 

Jean-Luc stared at his son, lost in memories. "I'll never forget de scream-filled nights when nightmares tormented every second of his sleep," he revealed. "At first, Remy refused to talk to me about de Antiquary and what de bastard had done to him, but his pain needed a way out and in de end, he sobbed his pain in my arms." Jean-Luc took a deep breath to bring his emotions back under control. "You don't know what if feels like to hold a small boy in your arms, who's deadly afraid of being touched. I wanted to rock him, make him feel safe, but he went rigid in my arms. Sometimes, when Remy felt strong enough, he put up quite a fight to keep some distance between us. He broke my heart."

 

"You're right," Warren whispered with new understanding. "I don't know how that feels, but I've seen his nightmares and managed to calm him down. Yes, he fought me too, telling me not to touch him, but later…"

 

"It took him a long time to allow someone to hold him," Jean-Luc explained. "We did it step by step. We started by combing his hair, wash his face, and rub his fingers… It was very hard on him. My horror increased when he finally told me what de Antiquary had done to him. Those stuttered confessions were barely audible, but it was a sign dat he'd finally started to trust us. We gave him all de time he needed." Jean-Luc still vividly remembered the way Remy had twitched in his arms, finally letting everything out.

 

Warren feared he already knew the truth. "He beat Remy, starved him and…?"

 

"De Antiquary was set on breaking Remy's spirit. When nothing worked de bastard sexually assaulted Remy!" Jean-Luc's voice shook with anger and fury. "It was his last means of hurting de boy."

 

Silence descended onto the room after that admission. Warren felt strangely numb, realizing all this had happened to Remy in the first ten years of his life. His own childhood had been great. His father had taken care of him and he'd never wanted for anything, but Remy… Instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, Warren tightened his hold on Remy's hand.

 

"At first Remy's behavior mystified me. I just couldn't believe dat de Antiquary had abused him so savagely." Jean-Luc's voice was filled with endless regret.

 

Warren sat quietly, but his fingernails dug a way into the wood of the chair. He was only a small child! He was just a baby! Like Jean-Luc back then, he now had trouble realizing the enormity of the abuse. How did Remy ever recover?

 

"On dat first night tante Mattie carried him to bed. Remy had dozed off after dinner, due to exhaustion. I now know that it was Remy's first decent meal in his short life. It was de first time people hadn't taken away his food after showing it to him. Remy later admitted dat during dat first evening he'd waited for us to tell him to sit on his hands, never being allowed to touch de food."

 

"Poor kid," Warren whispered softly. He'd never intended to get this emotionally involved, but Jean-Luc's tale was getting to him. Rubbing Remy's fingers he wished someone had come to the rescue earlier.

 

"Later dat night, we heard screams. Dey came from Remy's room and we hurried upstairs. When Mattie had put him to bed Remy had been soundly asleep. But when we entered Remy's room, he stood in de corner, begging us not to be angry with him. He'd wet de bed and we assumed Remy felt ashamed for that. After we'd calmed him down, he told us that he wasn't allowed to go to sleep until his master had said so. When he'd woken up in bed, he'd been so frightened that he'd be punished dat he'd wet de bed. De Antiquary ruled his every thought and de fear dat de monster would be back to get him, consumed him."

 

Jean-Luc absentmindedly stroked his son's auburn hair, knowing damn well Remy had suffered this fate because of him. "Remy was a slave for ten years." Jean-Luc lifted his eyes and stared at the rain, dripping from the window. Re-living this was hard. "It took us hours to coax him into lying down again. He was so scared dat it was a trap and dat we would punish him later, dat we almost despaired. After Remy crawled out of bed again I took him in my arms and lay down with him on de bed. Dat sort of convinced him dat we wanted him to go to sleep. I held him during dat first night, soothed his nightmares and tried to show him dat we loved him." His voice shook with remembered pain. 

 

As he looked at his son, soundly asleep underneath the warm comforter, Jean-Luc cursed his bad judgement. He should have known that the Antiquary was an evil man! Remy, I hope dat one day you can forgive me. His son would hate him once Remy knew that his 'loving' father had handed him over when he'd been just a baby.

 

"How did you… " Warren searched for the right words, "Reach him? Deal with his fear?"

 

Jean-Luc sighed deeply. "It was hard on both of us, but I dedicated my life to him. I spent every possible moment with him, showing him New Orleans, teaching him how to read and write myself and… we created a ritual before he went to bed."

 

Curiously, Warren looked from Jean-Luc to Remy. "What ritual?"

 

"I told you dat Remy was scared to death of being touched. After a few months he allowed Tante and me to dry his skin after he'd taken a shower. It was a great achievement for him. He'd take a bath before going to sleep and I enfolded him in warm towels. We did this for years…" Jean-Luc soothingly stroked Remy's brow. "De first time I saw dose scars I reacted like you did."

 

Warren nodded his head. "Making such a transition must have been hard on him."

 

"Took him two years before he addressed me as poppa. Remy was a quiet boy, always scared to do something wrong because he feared I might punish him for it."

 

And when he screwed up with the Marauders we did the same thing. Punish him for making a mistake, never considering the circumstances. And I, bastard that I am, refused to defend him at the trial! Feeling guilty, Warren wanted to leave the room, leave Remy's past behind him, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of the Cajun's hand.

 

"And den we had to deal with his mutant powers."

 

Jean-Luc's voice took Warren by surprise. He'd assumed the patriarch had told him everything there was to know. "Let me guess, Remy blew up a lot of things? Even with the X-Men he sometimes charged things accidentally."

 

Jean-Luc's warm laugh beamed through the room. "He blew up paintings, food, tante Mattie curlers, my notebooks, short circuited de security system. We still got large craters in de back yard from de objects he threw out of his room because he'd accidentally charged them!" These were fond memories. "He instantly got a reputation with de assassins."

 

Even Warren cracked a smile, relieved to hear something uplifting after Jean-Luc's depressing tale.

 

"But dere was also de charm and dat made things hard on him."

 

"Charm?" Warren cocked his head questioningly. "What charm?" The Cajun had never told them about that. Did Scott and the professor know or was this just another thing Remy had hid from them? "What's that, his charm?"

 

Jean-Luc's gaze darkened. "Let me explain dis." Oui, if his son was really interested in Warren, the X-Man better know about the charm. Might prevent them from getting hurt. "When I sat Remy down to talk after he'd escaped de Antiquary, he kept a distance. He didn't allow me to come within 3 feet of him. After long talks, he asked me why I hadn't ordered him to pleasure me yet. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. After I figured it out, I had to leave de room to get de anger out of my system."

 

Warren sat on the edge of his chair, dying to learn more about Remy. "Pleasure you?"

 

"You must understand what de Antiquary did," Jean-Luc chided Warren gently. "One of Remy's mutant powers manifested when he was five years old. Somehow, he can influence your emotions."

 

Warren whistled sharply between his teeth. "Sounds like an empath."

 

"I don't know about dat, but I do know dat de Antiquary used it against Remy. Remy told me dat de Antiquary blamed de charm for his abusive actions. For years Remy believed dat de Antiquary had raped him because de charm had made him do it."

 

Lost for words, Warren looked at Remy's peaceful expression. "The bastard put all blame on Remy?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc confirmed. "He planned on breaking Remy dat way. By doing dat he also made sure Remy stayed away from de other kids. Remy was too afraid dat de charm would affect dem too and dat dey'd hurt him."

 

"Letting you in must have been an immense step for him," Warren realized. "He must have been terrified that you wanted to hurt him too."

 

"But his charm doesn't work dat way," Jean-Luc continued in a surprisingly warm and respectful tone. "Oui, he can 'charm' you into doing things you don't really want to do, but… In all dese years dat I cared for him, de charm never struck me as something sexual. It never affected me."

 

Puzzled, Warren studied the lines edged onto Remy's brow. "I still don't understand… what this charm is," he admitted.

 

"Charm's de wrong word to describe it," Jean-Luc said slowly. "Let me give you an example. When Remy was 13, one of tante's favorite cousins died unexpectedly. At first we didn't understand what had changed, but de house smelled of flowers and dere was dis intense feeling of love and comfort dat seeped through every room. Tante's pain and sadness became more bearable and she remembered de good times dey'd had. Eventually we discovered de source of dis peaceful feeling. It was Remy, doing his best to comfort tante, instinctively using his power to ease her sorrow."

 

Definitely sounds like an empath. In his hand, Remy's fingers moved slightly, rubbing the palm of his hand.

 

"It was de only time ever Remy allowed dat power to slip from his control." Jean-Luc felt the slow change in movement as well, realizing Remy was waking up. "Do you understand now?"

 

"Yes," Warren said determinedly. Some of Remy's behavior, which he'd observed now made sense and it made him wonder if the professor had ever picked up on this. Remy could have used some guidance during his time with the X-Men. "But I still got one more question."

 

Jean-Luc observed Remy to make sure his son couldn't hear them yet. "What question is dat?"

 

"How did the Antiquary get his hands on a newborn? Where are Remy's real parents? Didn't they try to find him?" Judging by Jean-Luc's changed facial expression the patriarch wouldn't answer those questions.

 

And yes, Jean-Luc leaned forward, ignoring Warren. "Hello, son. How do you feel?"

 

Remy's eyes opened and a soft smile shone from them. "Better, merci, poppa." Slowly looking about Remy discovered his angel as well, sitting at his other side. His smile brightened. He'd feared that Warren would be gone the moment they were safe. "Bonjour, Ange."

 

Suddenly the dream comes rushing back to him and Warren flushed a crimson red.

 

Amused, Remy giggled softly. "You're blushin', Warren, why?"

 

Embarrassed, Warren stared at the floor. Remy had giggled like that in his dream and it made him wonder what kind of lover Remy would be. Nothing like in the dream, he realized instinctively, after hearing about the abuse and the way the Antiquary had blamed the charm power for his actions. Timid, nervous, maybe even afraid. Pursuing this line of thought, it suddenly made sense that Remy would pick Rogue to fall in love with. They can't touch, so he doesn't have to be afraid of what might happen. 

 

Warren leaned back, but indulged Remy, whose fingers remained in his hand. What did that do to you, Remy? Hearing the Antiquary tell you that you're responsible for being raped? That twisted bastard. If he's still alive I'll find him and justice will be done!

 

"Ange? Warren?" Remy shifted a little in bed.

 

Jean-Luc acted immediately, pushing him down again. "Petite, rest."

 

Fondly, Remy smiled at his poppa. Jean-Luc would never stop protecting him and he loved the older man deeply for his concern. "Can I have somet'in' to drink?" he asked nicely, knowing how to wind his father around his little finger. "I'm t'irsty."

 

Jean-Luc grinned at the smile Remy gives him. "You still remember how to play your poppa, don't you, Remy?" Slowly, he got up from his chair, stretched his legs and walked over to Warren. "Tell him that you're a mutant," he whispered the command.

 

Warren nodded his head. He'd known all along that he had to come clean on this. "I will."

 

Remy watched them closely, knowing he was missing something here. The moment his father left the room, he elbowed himself into a sitting position. "How's your wing?"

 

"Fine," Warren whispered in discomfort. "Shouldn't you be lying down, moving as little as possible?"

 

Cautiously, Remy shrugged his shoulders. As long as he didn't try to get out of bed he was fine. His hand moved to his injured side, pressing the bandages closer to the wound, which lessened the pain. "Poppa will give me hell later, mais," he said and wriggled an eyebrow, "I can handle him."

 

Warren shook his head and grinned, realizing how deeply attached he had grown to the Cajun. "Just stay in bed," he said pleadingly, banishing his unsettling dream into the pit of his mind.

 

"Why are you dis serious?" Remy asked curiously. Rain tapped softly against the window and Remy felt utterly relaxed. He was in his warm bed, safe and sheltered and no longer walking the streets getting ill because of the wind and rain. Dis is heaven.

 

"We've got to talk, Remy," Warren started, suddenly too much aware of Remy's trembling fingers in his hand, "Do you know what a mutant is?" He wasn't sure why he was so reluctant to do this. The reverie in Remy's eyes bothered him, but he didn't want to take away Remy's… hope. The fact that an angel cares for you must mean a lot to you, more than I can possibly imagine and now I'm going to crush that belief.

 

Saddened, Remy nodded his head. "Oui, I'm a mutant." He didn't really want to discuss this, didn't want to talk about his eyes or people calling him le diable blanc.

 

Remy's answer surprised Warren. He hadn't expected the Cajun to remember that much. "Yes, you're a mutant… when did you start to remember?"

 

"When I saw poppa… when I was little he helped me control de chargin' power," Remy whispered uneasily. "And den dere's my eyes…"

 

And the charm power. "Remy, you see these bracelets?" and he pushed a finger underneath one of them. "They stop you from using your mutant powers. That's why we've got to remove them."

 

"Dat's why I can' use my powers? I 'ready wondered…" Remy whispered perplexed. Mais dat also means… my charm power is off! He no longer had to worry about letting it slip!

 

Gathering his courage Warren pulled Remy's hand close and rested it in his lap. He really hated doing this to Remy. "I'm not a real angel, Remy. I'm a mutant too." Closely, he watched Remy's reaction. But the Cajun hardly showed any. Remy only nodded his head in understanding.

 

He figured out that Warren was no real angel when Warren hadn't known about his background. Angels knew everything, didn't they? "Just never wanted to admit it to myself… Made me feel special… bein' friends wid an ange…"

 

Warren hated seeing the sadness he just put into Remy's eyes. "My codename is Angel…Archangel," he said cautiously, eager to find out whether Remy remembered the X-Men. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

 

Awkwardly, Remy patted Warren's hand. Unintended, words slipped from his lips. "You'll always be my ange…"

 

"Oh, Remy!" Warren yelped helplessly. "I'm no saint! Soon, you'll remember what happened between us. We haven't been friends in the past!" Suddenly, he feared Remy's reaction when those memories surfaced. Hopefully I'll already have left New Orleans by that time!

 

Remy pressed his hand harder against the wound, realizing the truth. "You're leavin'," he whispered with certainty.

 

"Yes," Warren confirmed, but couldn't deny the ache that started in his heart. "In a few days. Jean-Luc will take care of you."

 

"My ange is desertin' me," Remy mumbled depressed. "Guess I 'ready took up too much of your time." The world he'd built around him collapsed. He could deal with the fact that Warren was a mutant and no real angel, but…"Can' you stay a little longer?" He didn't want Warren to leave yet. Except for Jean-Luc, Warren's the only person Remy trusted.

 

"This is for the best," Warren said steadfast. Once Remy remembered that they greatly disliked each other their new friendship would go to hell. And when he remembers me letting him down at the trial I better not be here.

 

Quickly, Remy wiped away the solitary tear that had escaped his eyes. He'd hoped he'd made a new friend, someone he could trust, but now he felt like falling from a great height with no one there to catch him. "I understand," he whispered softly. "Merci for takin' care of me."

 

"Remy…" Terribly confused, Warren felt torn between running away from the Cajun and gathering him in his arms to comfort him. But something kept him back. He couldn't reach out and soothe Remy.

 

"Please leave me 'lone?" Remy requested softly. The pain moving through him was something he had to deal with alone.

 

"If that's what you want," Warren rose from the chair and gently placed Remy's hand on the blanket. I really am a bastard, fucking up again and again! He was angry with himself, but clueless on how to remedy this situation. "I'm sure Jean-Luc will be back in a few moments." Slouching slightly, Warren made his way over to the doorway, casting one last glance at Remy. The young Cajun looked lost and helpless, curled into a tight ball and Warren fled the room in dread.

 

Remy still felt Warren's icy fingers on his skin, wishing his angel would come back to hold him again. He'd felt safe in Warren's arms, but he'd never experience that safety again. Warren would leave in a few days and he'd probably never see his angel again. "Just want somebody to love…" he whispered softly and kept back his tears. "Mais you don' want me to love you." His heart ached and he closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the outside world.

 

Part 12

 

"Remy? Worthington?" Jean-Luc stepped into Remy's room and halted in his tracks. The bed was empty and the chair next to it unoccupied. "Merde! Where are you, Worthington? Told you not to leave him alone!" A sound coming from the bathroom alerted him. "Remy? Is dat you?" He prayed his son hadn't done anything foolishly. "Remy? Answer me!"

 

Feeling caught, Remy's head whipped back and he resorted to the lamest excuse he could think of this quickly. "I'm only peeing, poppa!" he exclaimed in his most embarrassed tone, but quickly grabbed the towel to wipe away his tears. Sitting on the floor of the bathroom the wall felt cold against his back. Please let him come 'side and hold me… he thought longingly, but was afraid to speak the words.

 

They weren't necessary. Jean-Luc LeBeau knew his son and without hesitation he walked into the bathroom. "Don't lie to me, Remy," he chided his son and kneeled next to Remy. "What are you doing? You should be in bed." Remy's eyes were still filled with tears and as they rolled down the young man's cheek, Jean-Luc caught them with his fingertips.

 

"Why? Remy whispered in a dazed tone, "Why is he leavin'?"

 

"Your angel, non?" Jean-Luc sighed deeply and pushed his arms underneath Remy's knees and shoulders. As he lifted his son, he pondered Remy's question. "Your friend needs time. He's confused too, mebbe even scared."

 

Remy rested his head against his poppa's chest. "Sorry I left my bed, mais… I didn' want anyone walkin' in on me."

 

"I know dat," Jean-Luc assured him. "You always try to hide. Dere's no shame in crying. I told you dat a long time ago." He placed his son in bed and sat down on the side, still holding Remy. "You can cry in my arms like you used to, petite."

 

Remy finally calmed down a little, soothed by his father's persistent stroking of his back. "Je t'aime, poppa," he whispered softly.

 

"Je t'aime, mon fils," Jean-Luc replied in a similar tone and manner. "What are we going to do next?" Remy had to make the decisions. Remy needed to be in control. As his son didn't answer, he said, "Remy, I talked to de doctors, who treated you in Houston. Dey strongly advice you finally start taking your meds on a regular basis. Dey also advised me against telling you everything. You need time and when you're ready your memory will return. You've got to be patient…"

 

Remy smiled, as he snuggled up to Jean-Luc. "Will you stay wid me? Now dat Warren is leavin' I need you…"

 

"I'll always be here for you, my son," Jean-Luc promised passionately and placed a kiss on Remy's auburn hair. "I brought de meds… you're going to take dem now."

 

"Must I?" Remy objected, remembering feeling indifferent when under influence of the sedative.

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc got out the packages and rested his son's body in the pillows. "Let me get you something to drink." He filled the glass he'd brought along and offered Remy the water. "Take dem!"

 

Remy briefly considered protesting, but knew that would be futile. Jean-Luc wouldn't give in until he'd swallowed those meds. Reluctantly, Remy placed the pills on his tongue and drank the water.

 

"Open your mouth," Jean-Luc ordered. "No tricks."

 

With obvious reluctance Remy obeyed and showed him that he did swallow the meds.

 

"Now, where's your friend? He would sit with you in my absence." Jean-Luc pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable.

 

"I asked him to leave me 'lone," Remy said softly.

 

"But you really wanted him to stay, non?" Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Don't fall in love with him, Remy." He made sure no judgement sounded in his voice, just concern.

 

"I can' help it, poppa," Remy confessed in a shaky tone. As he lifted his eyes to meet his father's, he saw the love in them and fervently hoped that maybe one day Warren's eyes would shine like that too. Right now they were dark and desolate, mirroring an inner struggle. "I t'ink I fell in love wid him when I saved him from de sniper."

 

"Oh Remy," Jean-Luc sighed in compassion. "Wish you would finally meet someone who can love you just de way you are."

 

"How can dey?" Remy's tone grew dark. "When I can' love myself?"

 

"Remy, Remy, Remy," he continued to whisper the name, cautiously rocking his son. He'd worked so hard all these years to build Remy's confidence and self-esteem to acceptable levels and now the amnesia had ruined his efforts. They had to start all over again! "Don't hate yourself, petite. De Antiquary hurt you because he's plain evil. Your charm didn't make him abusive. I'll tell you dis as many times as you need to hear it, my son."

 

"Poppa?" Remy whispered into Jean-Luc's shirt, unwilling to raise his face. "De charm's gone."

 

"It'll return once de bracelets have been removed," he said soothingly, never expecting Remy's fierce reaction.

 

"Don' want dem removed!" Remy sobbed.

 

"Why?"

 

"For de first time in my life I know what I'm feelin', not gettin' an echo of other people's feelings… and I'm not influencin' deir feelings 'bout me eider. Dis feels honest, poppa. Please… I don' want it back."

 

"Remy, you don't need to be afraid of your charm power. No matter what de Antiquary told you, it's not a sexual power. You can't seduce people and dey don't want to rape you on sight. Dis is in your head, petite."

 

Remy remained quiet, listening to Jean-Luc's heartbeat. He'd heard this lecture countless times and knew it by heart.

 

"It's because you still act and think like a victim, petite and de predators out dere pick up on it. You've got to stop feeling powerless, my son," Jean-Luc said determinedly. "And like before, I will be here for you."

 

///

 

Restlessly, Warren paced his room. Everything Jean-Luc had told him tore mercilessly at his soul. The pain, the sadness, the loneliness… had been there all along in Remy's eyes, but he'd refused to see it, like most of the X-Men.

 

He'd just called Logan on the phone, giving him directions and Jean-Luc's address. Logan had grunted his impatience, but had seemed willing to do this for him, something that still surprises Warren. Maybe Logan had figured out this is important?

 

Sinking down on his bed he looked at his hand, which had caressed Remy's fingers only moments ago. He should leave this place as quickly as possible. Maybe he wouldn't even wait for Logan to arrive. Knowing that Remy was this close and yet out of reach drove him mad. "Can't be feeling this. I am not feeling this! I am not in love with a man!" he stated feverishly.

 

Remember Bobby?

 

Damn that irritating voice in the back of his head! He wished he could shut it down. "Bobby, what about Bobby?"

 

Bobby's gay.

 

"I fucking know that!" he exploded, "So what!"

 

You told him it was all right to be gay or bi, remember?

 

"That was different!" he maintained enraged. "Bobby's been unhappy with dating women his entire life! I love women! Love the way they feel!"

 

Then why didn't your relationships work out?

 

"Why don't you just shut up?" he questioned in turn and kicked a pillow over the floor. "I'm not having a conversation with myself!"

 

That's it. Just deny the truth like you always do. Run away from Remy and your feelings… you always do.

 

"Okay, that's it! I'm certified crazy! I need to get out of here!" Warren wanted to head for the doorway, but the door suddenly opened. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for your stories!"

 

Jean-Luc eyed Warren suspiciously. Warren's hair was flying madly around his head and his eyes burned with unholy fire. Something was eating this man alive. Tempered, he decided on a different course of action. "Remy told me dat you'll leave shortly?"

 

"Yes, tomorrow!" Warren snarled infuriated, shocked by his own reactions. He had to get his emotions back under control before he'd do something stupid. "Don't worry. I'll leave New Orleans and won't come back!"

 

Remembering Remy's pain, Jean-Luc refused to give in yet. "Remy needs you."

 

"He doesn't!" Warren sneered. "He only needs you!" He grabbed the phone and dialed a number. Tomorrow, his personal jet would take him far away from New Orleans! Maybe he'd give Bets a call, try and get together again.

 

"You're hurting Remy by leaving in this way," Jean-Luc said bluntly. Warren puzzled him. Why was there this immense anger and rage in his eyes? It hadn't been there when they'd talked about Remy earlier.

 

That statement halted Warren in his tracks and the phone dropped onto the bed. "I don't want him to hurt," he said honestly. "But I can't stay!"

 

"Will you say good-bye to him before you leave?" Jean-Luc studied Warren and had reached a conclusion. This man was fighting himself.

 

"Yes, I will," Warren replied on impulse and then regretted his answer. He didn't want to face Remy again. The pain in those red on black eyes had almost broken his heart in two before. "Wolverine will arrive tomorrow," he informed Jean-Luc. "He can remove the bracelets. I don't know how long he'll stay."

 

Jean-Luc considered telling Warren about Remy's plea not to remove those bracelets, but realized it wouldn't make a difference. Warren had to confront himself first before he could look at his feelings for Remy.

 

"How is he doing now?" Warren asked awkwardly and picked up his phone again.

 

"Asleep. He finally agreed to taking his meds."

 

"That's good…" Warren whispered absentmindedly. "He'll get better. Remy will heal."

 

Again, Jean-Luc held his tongue.

 

"Tell me when Remy wakes again?" Warren requested. "I'll say my good-byes then."

 

"You have no idea what you're throwing away, monsieur Worthington," Jean-Luc stated in a formal tone. "And once you realize dat, it'll be too late." After having said that he closed the door behind him and hurried back to his son's room.

 

///

 

Snuggled up to his pillows Remy's dreams changed. A moment ago he'd been surrounded by endless stretches of ice, but now he soared through the sky. Strong arms were wrapped around his waist, pressing him into the body on top of him.

 

Beautiful white wings took him higher and he smiled gloriously. His angel took him higher and higher and wasn't leaving him as he'd said he would. "Je t'aime," Remy whispered into the soft feathers and curled his fingers around his angel's.

 

Warren's warm laugh cascaded through the air. "Crazy Cajun."

 

His lover's tone was filled with love and affection and lips showered him with kisses pressed at the back of his neck. As Remy looked down at the Earth below, he whispered, "Don' leave me, Warren."

 

"How could I ever leave you?" Warren replied as his strong wings took them higher towards the stars.

 

Remy's eyes filled with tears. "You can… you will," he whispered waking up. As the dream faded from memory, another image flashed in his head. His pupils dilated, wondering where he was now. He was awake and this scene scared the hell out of him. These tunnels seemed endless and shadows hid in the passageways. Voices muttered around him and eyes stared at him from the darkness.

 

Panting hard, he struggled to sit upright. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a fantasy. He was remembering his past and it was filled with pain and betrayal.

 

Why did you do this to us? Hundreds of voices slammed their claws into his mind. You brought them here!

 

"Please… no more!" he panted in panic. But the voices grew in intensity and suddenly a red diamond sparkled from the darkness. "Non!" Remy exclaimed frantically. "Non, I didn' know!"

 

Jean-Luc stormed into the room, alarmed by Remy's yelps. He'd only left briefly to make arrangements for Wolverine's arrival. "Remy, poppa's here… What scared you?" Within a heartbeat he was next to his son, but not reaching out for him yet. He'd learned from personal experience that nightmares were very real to Remy.

 

"Tunnels… eyes… voices… and a diamond…" Remy panted and fell back into the pillows. His side hurt and his face contorted. Hopefully, the wound hadn't opened again. "Please stay, poppa?"

 

"I will," Jean-Luc stroked his hair out of Remy's face. He was getting tired as well. It'd been too many hours since he'd had some rest and Remy needed him constantly. If only Warren would rise to his responsibility, but the X-Man was running away.

 

Suddenly Remy noticed the beginning dark circles underneath his poppa's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm keepin' you 'wake."

 

"Dat doesn't matter, Remy," Jean-Luc assured him. "Move over…dat way I can get some sleep too!" It'd been too many years since he'd last done this. In those first months Remy had slept in his arms as it'd kept away the nightmares.

 

After shooting Jean-Luc a wicked grin Remy cautiously made room for his father. "Feel like your petite fils 'gain," he admitted as he moved into the embrace.

 

"You'll always be mon petite fils." Jean-Luc covered both of them with the comforter and hummed a melody.

 

Hearing that humming made Remy cry softly. In the Antiquary's rooms he'd been cut off from sound. "Don' stop," he said pleadingly.

 

"Go to sleep, Remy. I'll watch over you. Dey can't hurt you any longer."

 

"Wishin' my ange were here as well," Remy admitted. It'd been a slip of the tongue, but Jean-Luc probably knew his every feeling. "I miss him…"

 

For the first time in years Jean-Luc didn't know what to say. He didn't want to give Remy false hope, but the way Warren had been struggling with himself had told Jean-Luc that nothing had been decided yet. "I know you do, Remy…"

 

///

 

The next morning Warren woke from a dreamless sleep. Secretly he'd hoped that his dreams would be about Bets, but the only thing he remembered were swimming red on black eyes.

 

"I love Bets…" Warren whispered as he marched into the bathroom. He'd take a quick shower, have breakfast and then head for his flight. His plane was already standing by to take him to Westchester. But first he had to face Remy one last time.

 

As he brushed his teeth, he stared into the mirror and studied himself critically. Once he's back at the mansion he should work out regularly again. Bets would want him in shape or she wouldn't take him back.

 

But every time he thought of Betsy, Remy's eyes appeared in the mirror mocking him. At least his conscience was quiet for now.

 

After he'd shaved he got dressed, feeling thankful that Jean-Luc had had the courtesy to offer him some clothes. His old ones were stained with blood. Dressed in a black sweater and Denims he left his room. Constantly, he kept an eye on the time, not wanting to be late for his flight. Only a few more hours and I can forget about Remy.

 

///

 

"Monsieur Worthington," Jean-Luc greeted him coldly. Although he realized that it took most people time to accept their sexual preferences, he didn't feel sympathetic in this case. Probably because it was his son who was paying the prize.

 

Jean-Luc discovered his own preferences decades ago. Actually, dey tell me I look pretty good for a man over a hundred. Before the Antiquary had ruined his life he'd dated women and men, finding them willing and passionate. He used to court his new lover for a while, getting to know him or her before taking them to his bed.

 

But this had changed after he'd adopted Remy. Suddenly, this scared little boy had become the centre of his world and Jean-Luc had done the best he could to be a father to Remy. Had he failed or succeeded? 

 

"My plane leaves in two hours." Warren piled the food onto his plate.

 

"I'll arrange for an escort. De assassins are waiting for you to leave de house." Jean-Luc sipped from his coffee. "Remy's waiting for you in his room."

 

"I'll talk to him." Warren sat down and started eating breakfast. A question burned his lips. "Did he sleep well last night?"

 

Saddened, Jean-Luc shook his head. He does care for Remy, but can't face dat truth yet… Forcing himself to reply, Jean-Luc said, "I held him during de night. His nightmares took him back to de Morlock tunnels. His memory's coming back."

 

"The tunnels," Warren whispered lost. His wings trembled underneath the sweater. "Then it won't be long before he remembers Sinister and the Marauders as well."

 

"Dis Sinister…" Jean-Luc tried to remember what his informants had told him, "Does he have a red diamond on his brow?"

 

Warren shivered. "Yes, that's Sinister all right. Did Remy see the diamond in his dreams?"

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "You do realize dat dis Sinister used Remy?"

 

I don't want to think about this! Warren pushed his knife into the bacon and eggs. "Remy led them into the tunnels."

 

"Did you ask him why?"

 

"No, he doesn't remember!" Warren exclaimed upset.

 

"But you judged him nonetheless… and you're a lawyer?" Not hiding his loathing, Jean-Luc rose from his seat and stared hard at him. "You really don't deserve dose wings…" With those words he strode out of the room.

 

"I know that," Warren whispered embittered.

 

///

 

"Remy?" Warren approached the bed, eager to say his good-byes so he could leave this city. To his surprise Remy was sitting up, huge pillows supporting his back. There was a drowsy expression in the Cajun's eyes, like Remy wasn't really awake yet. Must be the meds.

 

"Warren," Remy said softly, feeling a bit more in control now that he wasn't lying down any longer. He'd nagged for hours before Jean-Luc had helped him to sit up. "Dis is it? You're leavin'?" His words were slurred and Remy cursed his poppa for making him take those meds.

 

"Yes, plane's leaving in," Warren looked at his watch, "45 minutes."

 

Remy stared at his hands, which rested in his lap, bracelets still suppressing his powers, just like he wanted it. Once Warren's friend has arrived Remy would tell the man to leave the bracelets in place. He didn't want the charm back. "Wish you well, Warren." There was nothing left to say.

 

Warren cringed slightly hearing that tone. And all of a sudden it's Warren and not Ange… what have I done? Am I about to make the biggest mistake of my life? "I hope you'll get better soon, Remy," Warren said sincerely. "Maybe we can meet up one day for dinner? Geeze, that sounds stupid!

 

"Sure." Remy knew this good-bye was final. "We'll have dinner." But he played along to make this less painful on both of them. "Stay 'way from de assassins."

 

"Thanks for saving my life… twice," Warren whispered as he moved towards the door. He'd always remember Remy lying in bed, still in pain, but struggling so bravely to be strong. "Be seeing you, Cajun."

 

As the door closed behind Warren, Remy choked back his tears. He was through with crying. Warren didn't want him and that was something he had to accept. "Be seein' you, mon ange…"

 

///

 

"He just drove off," Jean-Luc informed his son and sat down on the bed. "I brought you breakfast."

 

"Not hungry." Stubbornly, Remy pushed the tray away from him. "Tell his friend dat I don' need his help. De bracelets stay on!"

 

Jean-Luc raised a hand and stroked Remy's auburn hair behind his ears. "Don't give up, petite."

 

Feeling tired and drugged Remy shrugged his shoulders. "Don' care any longer."

 

Jean-Luc reacted on impulse and pulled his son into a tight embrace, refusing to let go. "Why is he dis special to you?"

 

"Don' really know," Remy whispered the words against the back of his father's neck. "Dere's such pain in his eyes and I want him to stop hurtin'."

 

"Do you know who he is?" Jean-Luc pulled away, determined to address the X-Men.

 

Torn, Remy tried to answer that question, but the drugs made it hard to keep focused. "You goin' to tell me?"

 

"Do you remember de X-Men, Remy?" Jean-Luc held his breath in anticipation.

 

A wave of pain washed through Remy. "De X-Men… don' want to talk 'bout dem…" Memories demanded to be acknowledged, but he didn't want them. A woman's face flashed in his mind. Ice… a diamond… the tunnels… and their hate. "Please poppa… don'."

 

"Mebbe later," Jean-Luc gave in, just in time remembering the doctors' advice. "I won't push you. Want me to put on some music for you? It might make it easier for you to go back to sleep. I got some matters to attend to and…"

 

"When will tante be back?" Remy asked in a numb tone.

 

Jean-Luc recognized the distancing behavior, which wasn't due to the meds. Remy was slipping away from him. "Mon fils…" he started, rocking Remy. I do hope you'll be happy one day. Your entire life has been misery.

 

Remy ignored him, but allowed his poppa to continue to rock him. "Don' want to remember," he whispered absentmindedly, not even aware that he was speaking. "Don' want to hurt no more… Don' want to fight…"

 

At a loss, Jean-Luc held him, buried Remy's face against his chest and hummed softly.

 

///

 

"This better be good," Logan growled as he walked up to the house. Yip, that was the address Warren had given him. As he pressed the door chime he wondered what this was all about.

 

The door opened and Logan took in the man's bulky appearance. Probably some hired muscle. Suddenly, he had no idea what to say. Why the hell had Warren asked him to come here anyway?

 

"Are you monsieur Logan?"

 

"Yeah, I'm Logan," he said relieved. The man stepped aside and Logan walked inside. From the corner of his eye he caught the valuable Renoir at the wall. "Care to tell me why I'm here?"

 

"Monsieur LeBeau will join you in a moment. Please wait here…"

 

"Hold yer horses," Logan whispered baffled. "Did ya say LeBeau?"

 

"Oui."

 

The voice took Logan by surprise and he quickly spun around. A second man had appeared from nowhere. "And ya are?"

 

"Jean-Luc LeBeau. I'm Remy's father and my son needs your help."

 

"Yer son? Remy's alive?" Releasing a sigh Logan sunk down onto a chair. "That Cajun's got more lives than a cat!" A big, dirty grin surfaced on his face. "So Gumbo's alive…"

 

///

 

New Orleans

 

Both men eyed each other suspiciously. Logan had to admit that Jean-Luc LeBeau radiated confidence and authority. This man usually got what he wanted. Quite impressing. Finding himself in the study of the patriarch of the thieves' Guild had been the last thing he'd expected. Why hadn't Warren at least told him that this was about Remy? Was Warren playing games?

 

No, Logan dismissed that idea. Warren would always try and uphold Xavier's teachings and one of them was not to screw with a team-mate's head on purpose. He might not like Worthington but knew he could depend on the man in the heat of a fight.

 

"Why do ya need my help?" Logan leaned back, determined to test the waters first. His instincts warned him not to underestimate Jean-Luc LeBeau. This man was as dangerous as a cobra. It took cunning and courage to lead the thieves' Guild. And backbone, considerin' he adopted Gambit.

 

"First, I want to ask you some questions." Jean-Luc took his seat behind his desk, pretending to look through some papers. But he was really taking in Logan's appearance. The mutant's eyes resembled burning embers, trembling with an animalistic intensity, how intriguing! Jean-Luc tried to focus on the reports, which informants / spies in Westchester had sent him. They'd gathered quite some interesting information about the X-Men. "Your name's Logan… Wolverine and you possess claws made from adamantium?" he summarized in a controlled tone. Good thing he'd started to collect info on the X-Men when Remy had joined them. He wanted to know whom he was dealing with!

 

As Jean-Luc looked up from the papers their eyes met and briefly he felt electrified. Mon Dieu… he only met the man a moment ago and already felt attracted to him! Merde! He couldn't use this right now. Remy had to come first! But it has been so long since I last felt like dis… The blue eyes tore at his self-control and he summoned his iron will power to compose himself. Why am I surprised? It's been… 15 years since I took a lover…

 

"Inquisitive minds wanna know huh?" Unnoticed by his host, Logan locked Jean-Luc's scent away in his memory. Ya never know when ya need it! "Yeah, that's right. I got claws." He didn't know why but he allowed his claws to pop out and loved hearing the small intake of breath coming from Jean-Luc. "It's adamantium, aright." Why the hell was he trying to impress the man? Taking his time, Logan's eyes scan every inch of the Cajun's face and he reached a conclusion. The dark circles underneath Jean-Luc's eyes indicated that Jean-Luc hadn't gotten much sleep lately and although the Cajun was trying hard to hide it, the patriarch was edgy. Interesting… probably has somethin' to do with the kid.

 

Getting back to business, Jean-Luc said, "Warren told me dat Remy's wearing de remainders of Eric De Red's shackles. I'm not sure what dat means." Leaning back, he continued to study his guest. Canadian. His mutant power is de healin' factor. I'm still not sure what dis Weapon X is, but dey are responsible for his claws.

 

Logan whistled softly. He wasn't very keen on discussing Eric The Red or Antarctica, but that was probably what Jean-Luc was interested in. "Yeah, those shackles block his powers. Lemme guess… ya want me to take them off?" When he'd arrived at the mansion after his trip to Japan, he'd wanted to seek the Cajun out, play cards, smoke a cigar. He'd walked into the living room, ready to ask Cyke about the Cajun's whereabouts, when they'd reluctantly told him the truth. Actually, Rogue had done most of the talking. Rogue had sobbed her confession; that she'd never wanted to leave Gambit behind, but Remy had wanted to die and she'd given in.

 

He didn't buy that explanation, never had. Although he liked the girl, he knew better than to trust her. And Joseph had held her hand the entire time. No, he hadn't bought her explanation or her grief at all! Unexpectedly, Jean-Luc's voice forced him to focus on the shackles once more.

 

"Dat was de plan, oui," Jean-Luc clasped his hands. "But Remy doesn't want de shackles removed." He was curious to see Logan's reaction. Thus far it seemed like he could trust the X-Man, but Remy had believed that at one time as well and they'd betrayed him in the end. Unintended, Jean-Luc's eyes drifted down Logan's face, down his muscular chest and came to rest on his claws. He's dangerous… dat's why I feel attracted to him. Mon Dieu, I always loved to play with wildfire and he might burn me!

 

"Huh? Why doesn't he want them off? He can't use his powers while they're on." Puzzled, Logan tried to pick up Remy's scent. Yeah, the young Cajun was close. Why hadn't he smell Gambit when he'd stepped inside the house? I can't believe it! The kid's still 'live… wonder what really happened out there on the ice… maybe I'll get some answers after all. He still felt guilty for being in Japan when this had happened. I would never have allowed them to leave the place without the Cajun!

 

"Before I tell you…" Jean-Luc was determined not to make another mistake. He'd trusted Warren to rise to the occasion, but the X-Man had hugely disappointed him. "Do you consider Remy a friend?"

 

Logan answered at once. "Yeah, I do. When they didn't brin' him back from Antarctica I was pissed… big time," Logan stated in anger and got to his feet. He didn't like this small room. It made him feel like a caged animal and that made Jean-Luc his warden. Thoughtfully, Logan paced the room, realizing Jean-Luc's intentions. Before the patriarch would allow him close to his son he had to pass this test. "We've all been used before. Remy's too young to realize whom he was dealin' with." Shrugging his shoulders, Logan continued, "Sinister used him and then disposed of him," he whispered angered.

 

"I don't know any details." Jean-Luc nodded his head. "But answer me dis, did de X-Men betray my son? Did dey leave him dere to die?" He wanted this question answered. If they did, they'd pay for hurting his son on purpose.

 

"Not exactly," Logan said thoughtfully, turning around to lock eyes with the Cajun. "I wasn't there, keep that in mind. I only know what they told me."

 

"I'll find out de truth eventually," Jean-Luc said steadfast and gestured Logan to continue. Although he didn't want to notice it, he couldn't look passed the rippling muscle that showed underneath the Canadian's shirt. Control! he chided himself. Don't think of his tight ass! Infuriated with himself, Jean-Luc regained control over his senses. Logan was here to help his son and he had to keep this on a professional level!

 

"Eric The Red played all of them and I think Bets would have pulled Remy into the shadows, but… Rogue flew him out of the citadel. When she joined the rest of the team without Remy she told them that he'd died in the after match of the fight. They had no reason to doubt her words. We never thought that Rogue left him there to die!"

 

Slowly gaining more understanding of the situation Jean-Luc rubbed his brow. "And what's Warren's part in dis?"

 

"Eric The Red decided Warren should defend Remy." Logan drew in a deep breath. "Hank told me Warren did a great job until Wings found out that Remy had gathered the Marauders. You see, the Marauders badly injured his wings."

 

"And Sinister?" Jean-Luc rose from behind the desk, checking if the tape recorder was still on. He'd evaluate this conversation later, and then figure out what to do about this.

 

"Remy never told us that he worked for Sinister." Logan now stood in front of Jean-Luc, close enough to touch and inhale the intoxicating scent of the Cajun's cologne. "Only Remy knows the answer to that question." His heightened senses smelled the growing arousal in the air. There was something very primal about this situation and he loved the unexpected magnetism.

 

"Bien." Satisfied that Logan seemed genuinely concerned about his son, Jean-Luc decided to give Logan a chance. "There are things you need to know before you can see Remy," he stated and poured two glasses of Bourbon. He offered Logan one, who accepted with a nod of his head.

 

As he drowned the drink, Logan noticed the approving glance in Jean-Luc's sparkling eyes. Yeah, this will be an interestin' ride… and I'm not regrettin' drivin' up here!

 

Logan's quite an impressive specimen, Jean-Luc mused privately as the Bourbon burned his throat.

 

///

 

One hour later, Logan stared out of the window and at the back yard. "Gambit did that?"

 

Jean-Luc grinned. "De craters? Oui, wrecked de garden as well." An oddly comfortable silence sneaked into the room and Jean-Luc enjoyed his last bite of dinner. Until now he hadn't realized just how hungry he was. "You understand dat you need to be careful around him? Remy probably won't remember you."

 

"Explain this to me 'gain," Logan said and returned to the dinner table. Jean-Luc had told him about the amnesia, the weeks Remy had lived on the streets and had even hinted at the abuse Gambit had suffered before the LeBeau family had adopted him. "This charm?"

 

"He has always been able to feel what others feel… to some extent. Remy never actively used it to manipulate people, but he always wondered which feelings were his and which were an echo. With de shackles in place, he knows de things he's feeling are really his."

 

"I don't think it's wise to cut them 'way when he doesn't want that." Logan sat down and played with his dessert, chocolate mousse. "And I can't tell him 'bout the others? Some are really worried, even mournin' his death."

 

"We can do dat later," Jean-Luc said determinedly. "Are you ready?" He pushed back his chair and moved over to the doorway. "I want to do dis now before he tries anything on me."

 

Logan wriggled an eyebrow. "Ya don't trust him, huh?"

 

"I trust Remy to look out for himself. He'll do what he thinks is best for him." Jean-Luc fell into step next to his guest and noticed Logan's strong masculine scent. This sudden rush of lust surprised him and he wondered if Logan felt it as well. The Canadian's grin was too damn smug!

 

///

 

"Remy? I brought a friend…" Jean-Luc announced and opened the door without knocking.

 

Logan immediately searched the room. Although he knew what to expect, seeing Remy shocked him. "Shit," he mumbled barely audible. The young Cajun had been reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. Red on black eyes opened, but seemed to look right through him, not acknowledging his presence. Damn! Now I really wanna know what happened after Hank and the others left. Rogue's been lyin', why?

 

"You can go 'way 'gain, monsieur," Remy whispered, "Don' require your help." He hid his hands underneath the covers. "As I told poppa, dey stay on."

 

"Stubborn as always," Logan remarked and approached the bed.

 

Jean-Luc remained in the doorway. He wanted Remy and Logan to interact without him guiding the conversation. Hopefully this would sparkle Remy's memory. His eyes drifted off and he noticed that the food on the tray hadn't been touched. After Warren had left, Remy had stopped eating. Not a good sign!

 

"Bub… remember me?" Logan sat down on the side of the bed. The hooded expression in Remy's eyes worried him. Yeah, Jean-Luc had told him about the meds, but this felt like Remy's body's here, but no one was home. "Gumbo?"

 

The voice sounds familiar, but Remy didn't want to leave this dark void. Here, he didn't have to think, speak or act bravely for his poppa. Here, he could switch off and let go.

 

"Hey Cajun! I didn't come here to get the cold shoulder treatment!" Logan stated loudly, hoping that the sound of his voice would snap Remy out of it. It didn't really matter what he said as Remy wasn't listening anyway, but Logan kept talking. "Looks like ya used up all yer nine lives, kid."

 

But the voice woke something inside Remy and it flashed into life. //Kid… Gumbo….bub… sounds like… sounds like…// The man's name was on the tip of his tongue but…

 

"Look at me, kid," Logan cupped Remy's chin in his hand and forced him to lock eyes. "Don't tell me ya forgot these baby blues!"

 

Remy's eyes grew big at the sight of the man in front of him. The man smiled at him, no, make that grinned and was waiting for a response.

 

"Wanna play cards, Remy? But I'm not gonna play for money! I'd end up broke!"

 

"Cigars…" Remy whispered and cocked his head. "I know you…" but the damn meds made it hard to think rationally. He had to struggle to form a coherent thought. "Please poppa… no more meds," Remy whimpered eventually. Just saying those words drained him.

 

"Mebbe de dose is a little too high, oui?" Jean-Luc suggested. "We'll see. I'll call de hospital."

 

"Merci, poppa," Remy said relieved and grew quiet again. Unexpectedly one word echoed through the room. "Bike…"

 

"Bike?" Logan grinned broadly. "Yeah, that's me. Cigars, bike and…"

 

"Claws…" Remy ended the sentence for Logan and shivered. "He has claws too." Through the darkness of his dreams echoed a vicious growl. "Sab…"

 

"Don't go there, kid. Not yet." Logan eyed Remy carefully. Logan has holes in his memory too and knew how hard this was on Remy. "Concentrate on me, kid. Who am I?"

 

Slowly, a veil lifted from Remy's mind. It only lasted seconds, but it was enough. "Logan?"

 

"Yeah, ya did good, Remy!" Logan said pleased. "Hey, I'm over here!" Remy's glance grew hooded again and Logan addressed Jean-Luc. "Ya better stop feedin' him those meds. They screw with his head."

 

Jean-Luc had to agree. He'd expected a different result… not this! "Remy will just take de sleeping meds den."

 

Approvingly, Logan nodded his head. "Much better."

 

"Logan," Remy repeated the name again. "Wolvie?"

 

"Now, I told you not to call me that!" Logan smiled reassuringly. "Lemme me have a look at yer wrists, Remy."

 

"You want to take dem off," Remy whispered in sudden dread. "Don'."

 

"No, just wanna have a look at the shackles, that's it." Logan tried hard to soothe him. The Cajun looked terribly frail and lost. "I'll only take them off if you want me to."

 

Reluctantly, Remy sneaked his hands on top of the cover. He still wasn't sure why he knew Logan or why he felt like he could trust the man, but he did. "You're a mutant," he whispered suddenly.

 

"Yeah, like ya are." Logan lifted the bandaged wrist and gently examined the shackles. "I can cut through them, no problem," he informed Jean-Luc.

 

"Remy," Jean-Luc joined them. "Do you want Logan to remove dem?" In his heart he hoped that Remy would pull through and would say yes.

 

"Non." His stare was empty as Remy looked at the two men. For the first time in his life he knew what he felt. He didn't want their feelings screwing with his head. "Don' want my powers."

 

Jean-Luc was about to try one more time, when Logan shook his head. "Give him time, LeBeau." He remembered waking up with those claws, not knowing how he'd got them and wishing they'd go away.

 

"Bien," Jean-Luc sighed the word, afraid that his son made a mistake, but backing him up anyway.

 

Pleased, Logan allowed his fingers to trail Remy's. "You once broke your thumb." He felt the little knot underneath the Cajun's skin.

 

"When Remy was training to become a thief he had to break into my house and bypass de security system… He broke his thumb in de process," Jean-Luc explained fondly.

 

"Mais I passed de test," Remy stated unexpectedly, surprising both men.

 

"Oui, you did," Jean-Luc confirmed. "And my security system is de best."

 

Remy smiled as well, but his growing fatigue made it even harder to speak. "Sleepy," he whispered eventually as his eyelids closed.

 

"Get some sleep, kid. We'll talk later," Logan whispered and awkwardly he patted the young Cajun's shoulder. "Who's gonna sit with him?" he asked, shooting Jean-Luc a knowing look. "We can't leave him 'lone."

 

"I need to take care of Guild matters," Jean-Luc said in a heavy tone. "I will relieve you in… let's say 6 hours?"

 

"Fine with me." Logan sank onto the armchair and rested his feet on the side of the bed.

 

Merci. Jean-Luc was greatly relieved to learn that Logan wasn't shying away from pulling his weight. If only the Guild didn't demand so much of his time and attention! But it'd always been this way. Even before Remy had come into his life, the Guild had come first and ashamed he had to admit that it still came first. Remy should be my prime concern! Not de Guild! Dat's been de problem all along. And for the first time in his long life, he considered stepping down as patriarch.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

As the plane approached the private airstrip near Westchester, Warren softly banged his fist against his seat. He couldn't get that lost look in Remy's eyes out of his mind. Again, he convinced himself that this was for their best. "I don't love him," he whispered beaten. "I love Bets and I'm going to call her the moment we're at the mansion."

 

The plane touched down and from his window seat he noticed the car. So Bobby had really driven up here? That didn't surprise him. Bobby's had always been there for him. They shared a close friendship, although Warren didn't understand why Drake liked to hang out with him. They didn't have that much in common…

 

As the door opened, he slowly descended the stairs. Bobby waved at him, a huge smile on his face. Warren forced himself to return that smile. He didn't want Bobby to realize that something was wrong.

 

But Bobby already had. Dark circles disfigured Warren's eyes and his elegant stride was gone. Warren slouched and Bobby quickly walked towards his friend. Something was very wrong and Bobby was thankful that Warren had given him a call instead of just bottling everything up inside. Bobby shivered, remembering the attacks of anger and rage that sometimes appeared without any apparent reason.

 

"Bobby." Warren extended his hand.

 

"Warren, buddy!" Bobby couldn't help himself, but pulled his friend into an embrace. "What?" he asked as Warren flinched.

 

"Got shot in the back a few days ago," he explained. "It's still healing."

 

"What happened?" Bobby grabbed the brief case Warren was carrying and threw it onto the back seat. "Get into the car… Scott and Jean told me to hurry so we're still on time for dinner."

 

Warren slide onto his seat and rested his head against the support. Hearing Bobby's voice reassured him. He was back in Westchester and Remy was still in New Orleans. But the Cajun kept haunting his thoughts.

 

"Are you gonna stay for a while?" Bobby inquired softly. He knew better than to push Warren. "Betsy called as well. She'll arrive tomorrow." Bobby peeked at his friend's face. No reaction. "You still together?"

 

"I want to get back with her," Warren said eventually. "I still love her."

 

"Knew there was a reason why you're looking like this."

 

"Like what?" Warren cocked his head. "Like what, Bobby?"

 

"Like shit," Bobby said apologetically. "How did you get shot?" Quickly, he changed the subject, realizing he was treading on thin ice.

 

"It's a long story, Bobby and I'm tired… Maybe later?" Warren avoided answering the question. Explaining about the sniper attack meant bringing up Remy.

 

"Jean and I cleaned up your old room yesterday. You wouldn't believe how much dust accumulates in a few months!" He tried hard not to touch any topics that might upset Warren. Geeze, he'd never seen Warren look this bad! And it wasn't only Warren's physical appearance. There was a lost expression in his eyes.

 

Uncertain why, Warren asked, "How's Rogue?" He couldn't help but wonder about her motives to tell them that Remy had died.

 

"Joseph and Rogue appear happy. She even asked the professor if they could move into the boathouse to have some privacy. Hey, I can understand that. Joseph can touch her and they'll want to get more intimate."

 

As they picked up speed, Warren stared out of the window. "Bobby, do you ever wonder what happened to Gambit?"

 

Bobby never expected that one! Nervously, he licked his lips. "He's dead, Warren."

 

"Does Rogue mourn his death?" Damn! Why was he talking about the Cajun? He'd left New Orleans to get away from him!

 

A pensive look appeared in Bobby's eyes. "Not really…" Now that he was thinking about it, he found that odd. "She said that she wanted to end their relationship anyway."

 

"Who's at the mansion?" Warren asked, hoping the place wasn't crowded.

 

"Scott and Jean of course. The professor and Hank are on Muir Island to help Moira with some research… We'll have to organize a Twinkie run, Warren. I need a new supply."

 

"Rogue and Joseph?" An unhealthy anger built in the pit of his stomach.

 

"They're in the boathouse so they aren't around much. Only for breakfast and dinner. And Storm's around too." Bobby wondered about this sudden interest in Rogue. "Logan took off without any explanation. Don't know when he'll be back."

 

"And what about you, Bobby?" Warren smiled at his friend. "Got a boyfriend yet?" Bobby actually blushed and Warren shook his head in disbelief. "You would tell me, wouldn't you? Your best friend?"

 

Bobby decided to play along. "Actually, Hank's my best friend! You're away all the time!"

 

"But I can get you Twinkies!" Warren baited him.

 

"Warren," Bobby said shyly. It'd taken him so long to come to terms with this that he still had trouble talking about it. "Maybe," he stated teasingly. "I saw him while I was getting groceries. He's tall, has black hair and cat-like green eyes. I think I'm in love!"

 

"Ah, that's why you want to get Twinkies… you're hoping to meet him again!" It was the strangest thing, but Bobby being gay had never bothered Warren. It was part of Drake's personality and Warren accepted his friend the way he was.

 

Why can't you do the same when it comes down to your feelings? His conscience broke its silence.

 

Annoyed, Warren turned on the music, which earned him a questioning look from Bobby. Because I'm not bi! Warren thought determinedly. I only like women!

 

"I know a nice little restaurant if you want to take Betsy out for dinner." Bobby wasn't sure what to make of his friend's behavior. The changes in Warren's mood were sudden and unpredictable.

 

"Sure, give me the address." Warren tried to sound calm and in control, but inwardly his emotions raged to new heights.

 

///

 

As they drove up to the mansion, Scott and Jean were already waiting for him. Somehow, Warren suddenly felt out of place, like he shouldn't be here, didn't deserve to be here. Maybe, coming here had been wrong.

 

Part 14

 

Westchester

 

Mentally exhausted, Warren dropped onto his bed and listened to Bobby's soft hypnotic voice. He was glad dinner was over. Scott and Jean had been perfectly polite, but Jean's eyes had revealed worry. Was it that obvious? Warren wondered intrigued. He thought he'd been hiding it pretty good!

 

"You're gonna call Bets?" Bobby sat down on the bed and fell backwards, next to Warren. "I can call the restaurant and book a table for the two of you."

 

Why am I stalling? Warren nodded his head. "Yes, give me the phone. I'll call her now."

 

Bobby doubted this was a good idea. He'd never liked Bets and had been secretly relieved to hear that they'd broken up. He'd made sure that Warren had never noticed his dislike, always acting casually around Betsy, but after she'd gained the shadow walking ability he'd really avoided her. "You want some privacy?" Bobby asked, ready to leave the room.

 

"No, this will only take a moment." Warren dialed Betsy's phone number.

 

Feeling uncomfortable, Bobby stared at the ceiling, creating small ice figures with his fingertips. "Look, it's a bunny!" he said and grinned at Warren.

 

Warren shook his head. 'Doesn't even come close to a bunny!"

 

Bobby pretended being hurt, but was already busy creating another small sculpture. "Maybe she can't come to the phone?" Bobby suggested after a while. Why was Warren this determined to get Bets back? As far as he was concerned his friend was a lot better off without Miss Arrogance!

 

Warren was about to give up when Betsy unexpectedly answered the call. "Bets? It's me, Warren…" Suddenly, he grew quiet, hearing soft panting in the background. "Am I interrupting your workout?"

 

"Warren?" Betsy said annoyed. "Do the X-Men need help?"

 

"No," Warren replied thoughtfully. Betsy was talking and yet he still heard the panting. "I'm in Westchester and Bobby told me that you'll arrive here tomorrow too, so I thought maybe we can go out and have dinner?"

 

"Why didn't you change your phone number?" a female voice hissed through the line.

 

Warren grew rigid. "Bets? Who's there with you?"

 

"Warren, I don't owe you an explanation! We're no longer together! It's time you move on and stop calling me. I've got my own life to get back on tracks. Take Bobby for a flight or something!"

 

Her sharp tone surprised Warren and he didn't really know what to say. Bobby stared at him, probably picking words up, as Bets talked loud enough. "Bets, it doesn't have to be this way. Please! Let's have dinner and talk things over? I really need you!"

 

An amused laugh rang through the phone. "But I don't need you, Warren. Can't you get that into your thick skull?" Bets paused briefly. "You're no longer the man I fell in love with, Warren. You've changed and I don't like the loser you've become, always complaining about what Apocalypse did to you. Don't you understand? I need someone who goes all the way, stops at nothing and you… you're just a big kid! Like Drake… no wonder the two of you get along that great!"

 

Dumbfounded, Warren opened his mouth to defend Bobby, but Bets had already hung up on him. Bets had gotten more vicious towards the end of their relationship, but this outburst had been unexpected.

 

"Hey buddy," Bobby sat up and wondered if Warren would accept his comfort. Probably not. "You gonna tell me what this is all about?"

 

Warren flung the phone onto the bed, jumped to his feet and paced the room. "She doesn't want me…"

 

"Warren, Betsy doesn't need anyone. You've got to face that." Bobby sat cross-legged and studied his friend. "But is this really about Bets? You didn't try very hard to convince her."

 

That halted Warren in his tracks. Turning around he looked straight into Bobby's compassionate eyes. Suddenly, he knew why he came here. "Can we talk, Bobby? I don't want anyone else to know, just you. You've got to promise me that this will remain between the two of us!"

 

Eagerly, Bobby nodded his head. "I'm your friend, Warren. You know that. I won't betray your trust. C'mon, sit down and tell uncle Bobby what's eating you!" Bobby patted the space next to him and waited for Warren to make his decision.

 

Reluctantly, Warren sat down. He didn't know where to start. "Remember when I asked you if you were gay?"

 

"Yeah," Bobby grinned. "I just got back from this terribly date with Glenda and felt quite miserable because I couldn't get it up…"

 

"Bobby!" Warren exclaimed with a smug grin. "I don’t need to know all details."

 

"Sorry, but it made you laugh, didn't it?" Bobby observed the nervousness in Warren's expression and didn't feel that confident any longer. Shit, was this about him being gay? Hadn't Warren accepted that?

 

"Yes, it did," Warren admitted in a guilty tone. "How did you know that you liked men?"

 

Bobby's eyes grew big. What kinda question was that? "Warren?"

 

"Just tell me!" Warren shifted on the bed until his back rested against the headboard. Asking Bobby such questions felt like infringing on his friend's privacy, but Bobby was the only one he could trust. The only one who could understand his doubts.

 

"Okay," Bobby whispered reluctantly. "Every time I was with a girl I wanted to be with a man. I wondered what it felt like to feel a man's firm body underneath my fingertips and that thought aroused me. You know that. My dates with girls never worked out, because they don't turn me on. I even started to collect Playgirl, to look at the pics…" A smile brightened his face. "And you found those mags… and you made me talk about my feelings… Why you wanna know all this?" Bobby moved closer to Warren until they sat next to each other. "You helped me admit this to myself. You know that I was living a lie."

 

Warren crossed his arms, uncertain what to tell Bobby and what to keep a secret. "There's this man," he said eventually and heard Bobby's sharp intake of breath. "I can't get him out of my head."

 

"A man…" Bobby repeated thoughtfully. "That's it? You're in love with a man? And it's freaking you out?" Yeah, that would certainly explain Warren's odd behavior. "And now you're trying hard to convince yourself that you still love Bets and that you can't possibly have feelings for a guy?"

 

Stubbornly, Warren nodded his head. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw red on black ones, looking up at him pleadingly, filled with love and unspoken promises.

 

"Warren," Bobby cocked his head and locked eyes with him. "I'm gonna give you the same speech you gave me about a year ago. It's okay to feel this way. You're not doing anything forbidden because you're in love with a man and God won't strike you down for it. If it's about love, don't fight it. True love is so damn rare, don't you dare throw it away."

 

"You don't understand, Bobby." Warren licked his lips, desperately wanting to flee those eyes, but Bobby wouldn't let go. "My dad always told me how important it is to find the right lady and eventually settle down and have kids. I need someone to follow in my footsteps, to lead the Worthington Empire."

 

"I see," Bobby mumbled. "You feel like you're betraying your dad. Warren, you're father's dead. You can't live his dreams or ideals. You've got to be happy with your life."

 

"But I can't accept this," Warren objected. "It goes against nature!"

 

"Thanks!" Bobby exclaimed exasperated. "I'm not going to hold that against you, as you're obviously confused as hell, but Warren… Damn! I don't understand why it's okay for me to date a man and you…"

 

"Bobby, I never thought I was bi! I loved women my entire life. I can't imagine being with a man! Just thinking about anal intercourse makes me sick!"

 

This time Bobby burst out laughing. "Man, you're totally screwed up. Do you really think that all two men do is fuck?"

 

"I don't know," Warren whimpered softly. "Can't believe we're really having this conversation!"

 

Bobby slapped his knees, still too amused to take Warren's last admission too seriously. "A lot of guys don't have intercourse because it hurts too much. Warren, there's a lot more to a gay relationship than fucking a man! And there are certainly other ways to reach orgasm… Geeze, Warren!"

 

"I don't know what to do with these feelings, Bobby," Warren admitted shaken.

 

Growing serious again, Bobby smiled reassuringly. "You're in love with this guy?"

 

"I think so… Can't forget about him. When I close my eyes, he's there… even had an erotic dream about him." Warren sighed deeply. "With a woman it's easy. You know what you're supposed to do, what she expects from the relationship but…"

 

"Yeah, that can be frightening," Bobby admitted. "In a relationship between two men you've got to discover the rules yourself. There are no role models. You've got to make things work through commitment and understanding. That demands a lot of dedication… does that scare you?"

 

"Suppose so." Warren now felt totally clueless.

 

"And this man… does he feel the same way about you?" Bobby was getting curious. Who was the mystery man who'd turned Warren -Mr.super heterosexual- on? He knew for sure that Warren had never considered building a relationship with a man. This must have turned his world upside down.

 

"I think so…" Warren remembered the expression in Remy's eyes, his plea to stay a little longer.

 

"And you haven't told him yet how you feel about him?" Bobby nodded his head. Trust Warren to turn this into a total mess!

 

"No… Bobby, can I ask you something personal?"

 

"We've been talking about personal matters the entire time!" Bobby teasingly pointed out to Warren. "Go ahead."

 

"You think I should give this a try?" Warren briefly avoided Bobby's eyes, which sparkled with mischief. They reminded him too much of Remy's.

 

"A try?" Bobby said disapprovingly. "No, don't give it a try. Commit yourself to him or walk away from this. This isn't a game, Warren. You'll hurt his feelings. Don't play with him."

 

"I need to think about this," Warren sighed.

 

"Okay," Bobby knew what his friend was going through. Warren needed time to accept this. "I'm going to the grocery store to get some Twinkies… Wanna tag along?"

 

"Sure, why not… maybe we'll run into your mystery man."

 

///

 

New Orleans

 

"Remy, you need to eat something!" Jean-Luc sighed discouraged. "You didn't eat dinner or breakfast, please do it for your poppa?"

 

Logan watched the exchange intensely. Remy's behavior worried him as well. During the 6 hours that he'd sat with the young Cajun, nightmares had disturbed Remy's dreams. In his sleep Remy had beseeched him to take away the cold and the dark eyes glaring at him from the tunnels. The pleading had stopped when he'd taken Remy into his arms and Jean-Luc had found them like that. "Yeah, kid, ya need to eat." It'd take Remy a long time to recover and Logan wasn't sure the kid had the strength or will power left to fight. Logan didn't know the Cajun like this. Remy wasn't a quitter so what had caused this change? Just the amnesia?

 

Judging from Jean-Luc's hints something else had happened, something that had to do with Worthington. The patriarch seemed very disappointed that Warren had left so quickly. Warren… Wings had sounded distressed at the phone, almost in a panic… 

 

"Maybe Remy just wants us to stop naggin'?" Logan said affectionately and patted Remy's cold hand. "Do ya want some privacy, kid?"

 

"Oui," Remy stuttered, relieved that the meds were losing their effect. At least now he could think a little clearer.

 

"Remember your promise, Remy. Stay in bed! We'll move to de den and leave de doors open. I can watch you from dere!" Jean-Luc stroked his son's hair out of his eyes. "I know you want me close in case you need me."

 

He knows me so well! Remy thinks thankfully. Oui, he wants to be alone, but also needs his poppa near. "Before you leave," he started… "Did you hear from Warren?"

 

"Non, I'm so sorry, petite," Jean-Luc leaned in closer and caressed his son's brow. "Don't expect him to come back to you, my son."

 

Logan's eyes widened a little at hearing that. "You want Wings back? That's it? Why?"

 

Jean-Luc exchanged a glance with his son. Remy wouldn't mind. "My son's in love with him."

 

Remy blushed hearing it phrased like that. "I know dat's foolish… Mais I can' deny de way I feel. You see, dis is de first time dat I know I really like someone in dat way. It's not his feelings dat make me t'ink like dat and my feelings…"

 

"Hold yer horses, kid. Slow down." Remy's babbling didn't make much sense, but… "You do know Wings ain't interested in men?" He hated doing this to Remy, but it was best to confront this head on. "Ya'll only end up hurt, bub."

 

"I already told Remy," Jean-Luc interrupted. "But he needs time to work through dis."

 

///

 

After they moved into the den, Jean-Luc picked a seat that allowed him to keep an eye on his son. Doors open, he could see Remy lying in his bed. There was a smug grin on his son's face. "He's acting tough, but…"

 

"Bad choice to fall in love with Wings," Logan growled. "Didn't know Remy was bi." Sitting down opposite Jean-Luc he closely watched the man's body language. "Yer comfortable with that?" Guess his answer will also tell me where we stand.

 

"Bi, gay, heterosexual, dose are only words… futile attempts to classify passion." Jean-Luc glanced at Remy, who'd picked up pen and paper and was writing. "It's a shame dat people don't see Remy for who he really is. He has so much to give and all he gets in return is pain."

 

Logan rose from his chair and pushed the door ajar so Remy couldn't watch them. Predatory, he sneaked up on Jean-Luc and placed his hands on either side of the armrest. "And what about ya?" Jean-Luc's pupils dilated and a sharp expression appeared in them. I ain't the only predator in the room. "Ya want this?" and Logan leaned in closer to roughly claim and bruise the Cajun's lips. "Lemme in…"

 

Jean-Luc brought up one arm and quickly wrapped it around Logan's throat, almost cutting off his air supply. "Sit down!"

 

But Logan didn't move and gave Jean-Luc a dirty grin. "Wanna fight?" Yeah, he'd figured out Jean-Luc LeBeau.

 

"Mebbe," Jean-Luc admitted. "But let me make dis clear. I won't allow dis attraction to hurt Remy."

 

"Stop worryin' about the kid. Remy's a lot stronger than ya give him credit for." Logan twisted Jean-Luc's arm and was now in control. "We're both adults and we know what this is about."

 

"Lust," Jean-Luc agreed. With a quick move, he freed his arm and grabbed Logan's neck. "Dis isn't for forever."

 

"Yeah, I know that." Logan eyed him appreciately. "We're both old enough to realize that, Cajun."

 

Jean-Luc released the Canadian and twisted away from him as he rose from his chair. "Come to my room later dis eve. I want to sit with Remy first."

 

"Anything ya want me to bring 'long?" Logan said wickedly. "Like hand cuffs or…"

 

Jean-Luc laughed, amused. "I'm sure we'll find a way to pass de time. And make sure no one sees you!"

 

Logan leaned against the wall. "Wasn't wrong about ya after all!" he mumbled pleased once Jean-Luc had left the room. Damn! It'd been too long since he'd found someone who could stand up to him. Jean-Luc wouldn't take any crap from him and would probably want to dominate the relationship. "Well, he's used to bein' in charge… he might be in for a surprise though!" he quipped privately.

 

///

 

"What are you doing, Remy?" Jean-Luc stopped himself from peeking at his son's writing. Color had returned to the young man's face, but he still looked too fragile. Worried, Jean-Luc straddled a chair.

 

"Writin'," Remy replied with a sigh. "Remembered somethin' new today," he admitted shakily.

 

Instinctively, Jean-Luc knew it was something that had caused Remy pain. "What is it, mon fils?"

 

"My fight with Julien… you exiled me from N'arlings… I made a mistake comin' back here." His eyes locked with his father's. "Never wanted to kill him."

 

"I know dat, son." Jean-Luc took hold of Remy's left hand and rubbed it soothingly. "I should never have exiled you, Remy. My mistake."

 

"When I remembered dat," Remy started in a trembling tone, "I felt lost. You're all I have, poppa. I don' want to leave N'Awlings. I feel safe here." He knew Jean-Luc hadn't had a choice and had to banish him from New Orleans, but… "I can' stay here much longer, oui?" He didn't know where to go, whom to turn to. Warren could have taken him away from here. He would have allowed Angel to take control of their situation, but Warren had left.

 

"Non!" Jean-Luc exploded. "You'll stay here as long as necessary for you to heal! Damn de assassins and de thieves! I will defy dem!"

 

"Poppa, don'… I ain' worth it," Remy whispered softly. "Know how important de Guild is to you."

 

"It's my curse," Jean-Luc corrected Remy, "and you're my blessing." Unshed tears showed in his son's eyes and Jean-Luc felt like a coward. Maybe he should step down as patriarch! "Can I read it?" Jean-Luc asked hesitantly and pointed at the paper.

 

"It ain' finished," Remy whispered. "And it's my first poem… You can read it when I've finished…"

 

"Hey, got something to eat for you, kid and trust me, you're gonna eat it!" Logan strode into the room, carrying a tray.

 

The interruption briefly annoyed Jean-Luc, but he quickly realized that Logan was acting out of concern for Remy. "What did you bring?"

 

"Pizza! Cajun used to steal my slices when I wasn't lookin'!" he said teasingly and put the tray on the bed. "Just a few bites, Gumbo. It has extra cheese!"

 

Remy stared at both men and realized he wouldn't get away with being stubborn. They'd find a way to make him comply and secretly, he loved them for it. He needed someone to kick his ass, as he was too damn eager to give up. "Just a few bites den."

 

Pleased, Logan gave Jean-Luc a wink. "Yer not the only one who knows how to play him!"

 

///

 

An hour later, Jean-Luc managed to convince Remy to take the sleeping meds. "I'll be close," he promised. "You're safe here, Remy. Or do you want me to sit with you through de night?" He'd cancel his 'date' with Logan if Remy needed him. Logan would accept that decision without making a fuss about it. Logan knew how important Remy was to him.

 

"Poppa? You need sleep too," Remy said with some of his old mischief in his voice. The sleeping meds were already luring him asleep, but there was one more thing he had to say, "Je t'aime, poppa."

 

Saddened and ashamed, Jean-Luc shook his head as Remy fell asleep. "Don' deserve your love, Remy. Not after de hurt I caused you."

 

///

 

Westchester

 

As they walked into the grocery store, Bobby's eyes immediately searched the place. His heart missed a beat when he found the subject of his desire behind the counter. "Geeze, he works here?"

 

Warren couldn't help but smile. "That's the guy?"

 

"Yeah," Bobby sighed blissfully. Only then he realized what his secret love might think, seeing him in here with Warren. "Warren!" he yelped and shoved him away. "Pretend you don't know me!"

 

Warren's laugh turned into a grin. "You're scared he thinks we're together?"

 

"Yes!" Bobby exclaimed helplessly, as his love glances in his love's direction. "Please, Warren! This is my chance. I'll get the Twinkies…"

 

"And you'll pay for them!" Warren quipped. "Let me guess, you want me to wait in the car?"

 

"Would you do that for me? Pretty please?" Bobby wasn't too proud to beg!

 

Warren was tempted to give in, but his curiosity won. "I'll see you in the car… later…" he quipped and marched towards the counter.

 

"Don't!" Bobby whispered helplessly. "You're gonna ruin everything!"

 

But Warren pretended he was reading a magazine and watched Bobby's hesitantly approach. He really wanted to know how Bobby was going to handle this! It was a pity that he couldn't hear them talk, but Bobby obviously managed to raise the dark haired man's interest. Well, man… young man… he can't be much older than Bobby.

 

As Bobby paid for the Twinkies, Warren clearly noticed that their hands touched a little longer than strict necessary when handling the money. He put the magazine away and followed Bobby out of the store. "Looks like you might get lucky," he quipped teasingly and slide onto his seat. "What did you talk about?"

 

Bobby sat next to him with a stupid grin on his face. "Hey, Bobby? Earth calling Bobby?" He waved his hand in front of his friend's face and that seemed to bring Bobby out of his trance.

 

"We're gonna have coffee together tomorrow."

 

"That's it? By the way you were grinning I thought…" Yeah, what had he been thinking? That Bobby would jump the guy? Slowly, he started to understand his mistake. "Bobby?"

 

Seeing dawning realization on Warren's face Bobby nodded his head encouragingly. "Yeah?"

 

"It's not about sex, isn't it?"

 

"You're learning!" Bobby praised him teasingly. "I want to get to know him, not screw him! Well, maybe later down the road," he added with a grin on his face. "Do you already know what you're going to do about your love?" he inquired as he started the car. His secret love, no longer really secret, waved and Bobby waved back. "Coffee at 1800," he repeated nervously. "Maybe we can catch a movie later?"

 

"My love?" Warren repeated puzzled. "My love?"

 

"You still haven't told me his name," Bobby pointed out to Warren, biting into a Twinkie. Bobby decided to go first. Maybe then Warren would open up to him. "His name is Nicolas," he informed Warren, whose flabbergasted expression made him laugh. "The guy behind the counter? Remember him?"

 

Warren smiled weakly and remembers Bobby's question. Yes, what was he going to do about his love? Remy LeBeau… thief of hearts… "Bobby… Hope you don't think I'm bailing out on you, but I've got to leave tomorrow morning."

 

"You made your decision? You're going back to tell him?" Fascinated by this development Bobby devoured another Twinkie. As he offered Warren one, his friend declined. "Are you getting lovesick as well?"

 

"Actually, I feel like a bastard… I ran out on him when he needed me," Warren confessed in an unguarded moment. "He's injured."

 

Bobby digested the news… and another Twinkie. "I'll drive you after breakfast. Warren? Promise me one thing?"

 

Curiously, Warren nodded his head. "And what's that?"

 

"Don't bolt at the first sight of trouble in this relationship? I know you, Warren. Make this commitment or…"

 

"I'm ready to commit to him… I think," Warren whispered nervously. "But I'm not sure he'll forgive me for running away like that."

 

"There's only one way to find out, Warren. Tell him. Tell him that you love him." Bobby smiled relieved. "And don't jump him!"

 

"Drake!" Warren exclaimed and jokingly, elbowed his friend in the side. "Thanks…" he whispered in a more serious tone.

 

"You're welcome … now, can I have your credit card to go shopping?"

 

"Don't push it," Warren warned him. "I'll put a limit on it!" Feeling relieved and liberated, he leaned into the seat and watched the stars that brightened the evening sky. Tomorrow, I'll go back to New Orleans… and ask Remy if he still wants me. Part of him couldn't believe he'd made that decision. Yes, maybe I can love you, Remy. 

 

Part 15

 

New Orleans

 

Jean-Luc sighed blissfully, as warm beams of water cascaded down his body. The shower drained all tension from his body; tension that had started to build the minute he'd heard that Remy had returned to New Orleans. "When will it stop?" He bowed his head in defeat. The warm water dripped from his head onto his shoulders and quickly made its way down the rest of his body. "Why can't you leave him alone?" The Antiquary once more haunted Remy and that angered Jean-Luc him. "I should never have carried out de order to steal de baby…" But he'd obeyed and had handed a helpless baby over to the Antiquary.

 

He wished that he could stop thinking about his son's pain and his own guilt for just the briefest moment, to just let go. But that was a luxury he couldn't afford, being the patriarch of the thieves' Guild! If only his power and influence had been this strong 24 years ago, then he could have defied the Antiquary. But back then his hands had been tied.

 

Noise coming from his bedroom broke his musings. Someone had just entered his private rooms! Listening to the footfalls he quickly realized that it wasn't Remy. Who else would venture in here…?

 

"Yer 'round, Cajun?" Logan already knew the answer, but considered it only good manners to let Jean-Luc know he'd arrived. " So, yer in the shower?" he asked with a dirty smile on his face. Might as well join him!

 

Jean-Luc grinned through several droplets of water, which slid down his face. "You’re early!" But this was what he needed. He needed this diversion, this attraction. Needed to let go and just focus on someone else for a short while. It'd help him concentrate on Remy's problems later if he had an outlet for his own frustrations and emotions!

 

Logan's grin grew diabolical as he slipped out of his shirt and jeans. Cajun's in for a surprise! He recalled the fragrance of Jean-Luc's spicy cologne and his body reacted subconsciously to the scent. His cock was already semi-erect, but started to throb when he thought of the deliciously vicious things he could do to Jean-Luc.

 

Jean-Luc wasn't surprised when the cabin door opened. He'd already expected Logan to join him. "We're too old for modesty," he whispered softly and caught glimpses of Logan's naked body. The man was even more muscular than he'd originally thought! He loved the refined muscle tone. Logan was a little shorter, but Jean-Luc would never make the mistake of underestimating the Canadian. "Getting impatient?"

 

"Yeah," Logan mumbled and cocked his head to take in Jean-Luc's well-trained body. Jean-Luc didn't have any chest hair, but Logan raised an eyebrow at the sight of the Cajun's impressive cock. "It's been a while? " he asked teasingly. It boosted his self-esteem, knowing that he could turn this man on by mere sight.

 

Jean-Luc returned the grin. "Are you going to close dat door? It's getting chilly in here!" Temptingly, he turned his back on Logan and continued to wash his hair. He'd let Logan make the first move.

 

"Ya got a sweet ass, Cajun!" Unable to resist any longer, Logan took a step closer and curled his fingers around his cock, luxuriously stroking himself. He planned on coming once before burying himself in that warm body, that way he'd last longer!

 

"Not letting you near my ass!" Jean-Luc whispered seductively.

 

"We'll see, Cajun!" Accepting the challenge, Logan lunged forward, eager to spoon himself into the body in front of him. Surprised, he froze when Jean-Luc let him. "What? Ya no longer interested in fightin'?" But damn! That tight ass was now pushing against his groin and he could hardly stop himself from guiding his cock into the Cajun's body.

 

Jean-Luc chuckled. Luring your 'opponent' in to safety first was an old tactic. He refrained from talking, as he needed his entire concentration.

 

Logan's breath caught as the Cajun seemed to go down onto his knees, but then Jean-Luc swirled around, grabbing his left wrist in a tight lock. The Cajun completed his move and suddenly, their roles had been reversed. A hard cock teased against Logan's ass.

 

Jean-Luc's dirty grin spoke of admiration. "You're perfect…" It was the first time that he'd met someone who was his equal in strength and cunning. One mistake and Logan would try to take charge of the situation. The hint of danger aroused Jean-Luc even more. "I'll try to be careful," he whispered into the Canadian's ear, "but as you said, it's been a while."

 

Logan hissed his frustration as the Cajun pushed his face into the tiles. He tried to break free from the wristlock, but moving about only increased the discomfort. "No way yer gonna fuck me!"

 

Jean-Luc growled deeply. "You're used to being on top, non? Just like me… But dis time you're not going to win. Oui, try and struggle, it'll only make it more difficult for you to get out of dis lock." With his free hand he slapped Logan's buttocks hard.

 

Growling dangerously, Logan refused to surrender just yet. "Wanna fuck ya!"

 

"Mebbe I'll let you… later," Jean-Luc stated and took a deep breath. Using all his strength he pushed Logan's chest against the tiled wall. "Giving in so easily? What a disappointment!"

 

"Not ready with ya yet, Cajun!" Unexpectedly, Logan dropped to his knees, taking Jean-Luc with him. Two can play this game!

 

Jean-Luc allowed himself to follow Logan down, never releasing the hold he had on Logan's wrist. He couldn't help but admire the subtle play of muscles on Logan's back. But he was determined to claim the Canadian. He refused to submit first.

 

"Damn!" Logan growled infuriated. His action hadn't helped much. Suddenly, Jean-Luc pulled his hair and the Cajun slammed him face first into the cabin floor. All the while his cock was growing harder from arousal. Sex and violence… a deadly combination that he'd wanted his entire life, but had never found. He shivered as the Cajun straddled his lower back. Can't believe I'm lettin' him do this! Never let someone fuck me! I'm always the one doin' the takin' but this time… Logan tried to throw Jean-Luc off, but fails. A quiver of anticipation moved through his body.

 

Jean-Luc sensed the submission, but never released the hold he had on the Canadian. Like a caged animal Logan would try to break free. "Did you bring de hand cuffs?" he asked teasingly. Leaning forward, he placed his full weight on Logan, who was on the floor. While moaning his pleasure, Jean-Luc's hand trialed down the muscular back. Sensually, he kneaded Logan's firm buttocks.

 

"Be careful, Cajun. Haven't done this before," Logan tried hard not to sound embarrassed. The prospect of getting fucked scared and aroused the hell out of him at the same time. His cock leaked pre-ejaculate and he managed to bring down one hand to stroke himself.

 

Nodding his head, Jean-Luc looked around and finally grabbed the hair conditioner. "Condom?"

 

"Forget 'bout it…" Logan mumbled lost as cold fingers slid down his cleft. His healing factor would take of that.

 

Jean-Luc poured some conditioner on his right hand and rubbed his fingers. "You're ready for dis?"

 

"Doubt I'll ever be ready for this! I'm gonna make ya pay!"

 

"Talk's cheap," Jean-Luc countered and parted the Canadian's buttocks. "What do you want? Hard and fast? Or a slow fuck?" Oh, how he'd missed talking dirty!

 

"Yer gettin' off on this?" Logan growled. His stomach contracted as one slithery finger teased against his virgin entrance. "Considerin' it's my first time… yo better not screw up!"

 

Jean-Luc saw through the pretence and slowed down a little. "Just relax, Logan… it doesn't have to hurt."

 

"But we want it to hurt," Logan mocked him.

 

"Mebbe just a little…" Jean-Luc admitted and looked down at the man beneath him. "Oui?" he asked, making sure he's got Logan's permission. As much as he enjoyed their little fight he wouldn't just take what he wanted.

 

"Damn ya, Cajun, just fuck me so I can take my revenge on yer sweet ass!" Logan immediately regretted his boldness as a finger sharply pushed inside. A low, guttural growl escaped his lips. "And that's just one fuckin' finger!" he reminded himself.

 

"You'll get used to it," Jean-Luc quipped and leaned down to lick the sweat of Logan's back, his finger probing deeper, as deep as he could. His finger lightly stroked the prostate and the Canadian bucked. "Easy," Jean-Luc whispered soothingly. "Dis is only de beginning!"

 

"Yer killing me!" It infuriated Logan that Jean-Luc hardly afforded him any space. He could stroke his cock, but… damn! He needed more stimulation.

 

"I wanted to take you unprepared…" Jean-Luc whispered into Logan's right ear, "But now dat you admitted to bein' a virgin…"

 

"Damn ya, just fuck me, Cajun!" Logan's eyes grew big as a second finger joined the first, stretching him just a little more. "Lemme fist myself!"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc decided. "Want you to suffer…" As Jean-Luc looked down, he forgot to breathe momentarily. The sight of his fingers disappearing into the Canadian's body nearly made him come. He wanted to take this man, half human, half animal so badly and fuck him viciously. "Not yet…"

 

Pushing back of his own free will, Logan tried to take in more of Jean-Luc's fingers. "Gimme me another one!"

 

"Three?" Jean-Luc whispered amused. "Why not four?"

 

Logan howled as the pain/pleasure melted into his mind. "Four?" he panted heavily. "Lemme get onto my knees…"

 

Jean-Luc considered the request. 'Oui," he decided and briefly withdrew his fingers to give his partner a chance to get onto his knees. Quickly, he coated his aching cock with conditioner and grabbed Logan's hips. "It's going to be a slow fuck… hope you approve."

 

Head reeling, Logan was hardly able to respond. He pushed his hands into the floor and shivered as Jean-Luc spread his legs a little further apart. "Can't take this much longer," Logan admitted shakily. "Stop teasin' me!"

 

Satisfied with Logan's reaction, Jean-Luc moved into position and guided his cock into Logan's entrance, which was hot and slippery. "Get ready," he warned his partner and then pushed inside.

 

"Shit!" Logan hissed in surprise. "Yer fuckin' huge, Cajun!" His knees trembled and he wasn't sure he could go through with this. The pain was excruciating, but at the same time rapture built in his stomach. "Just give me a sec to…"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc thrust deeper, finally sheathing himself completely in Logan's hot body. Countless muscles contracted around his cock and briefly he feared coming right there and then. "Breathe regularly!" he instructed.

 

Logan lowered himself onto his elbows, trying to find a more comfortable position, never expecting Jean-Luc to choose that moment to start thrusting.

 

"Mon Dieu!" Jean-Luc exclaimed as he slid in even deeper. "You're good at this, Logan… Now, I'm going to fill your ass with my come…"

 

Infuriated, Logan tried to throw his rider off, but Jean-Luc punished each attempt with a vicious thrust. Suddenly, black spots appeared in front of Logan's eyes, followed by a bright explosion as his partner's cock stroked his prostate again. This time the feeling was so intense that Logan couldn't help pushing back. Cold sweat covered his body, but Logan cocked his head to look at the Cajun kneeling behind him. Jean-Luc's damp hair clung to the Cajun's face and his partner's eyes had turned dark. The sly smile was still there.

 

Reaching forward, Jean-Luc roughly grabbed Logan's cock, which was heavy with unreleased come. "I take it you like getting fucked like dis?" he said to infuriate Logan. "And your ass is just perfect, tight and hot, like it was made for me."

 

"Old pervert!" Logan countered, but his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as Jean-Luc suddenly fisted him wildly. "What are ya doin'?" Logan panted hard. He'd never before been dominated like this, had never considered submitting to a dominant partner. Jean-Luc possessed his body and Logan found that he wanted this to last.

 

"Want you to come first and feel you around me," Jean-Luc whispered into Logan's ear and then licked his collarbone. Logan squirmed deliriously. Pleased with his victory, Jean-Luc slid in and out of Logan's hot ass. Jean-Luc's balls slapped against sweaty skin and he loved the sound of it. "Come for me."

 

"Damn ya to hell, Cajun!" Logan screamed as he suddenly released his completion, shooting it onto the cabin floor, spilling it over Jean-Luc's hand. And damn, the Cajun continued to milk him until the last drop! Logan howled helplessly.

 

"Non… dis is heaven…" Jean-Luc groaned as Logan's muscle clenched him. "Mon Dieu… you're mine!"

 

Logan could hardly comprehend what was happening when Jean-Luc's hot come filled his ass. Still hard, Jean-Luc continued to thrust and this time the sensation was unbearable. Damn Cajun is comin' inside me! Logan realized shocked. He'd never allowed a man to come inside him! Disappointed, Logan whimpered as Jean-Luc's fingers slipped away from his sated cock.

 

"Dat was…" Jean-Luc covered Logan's body with his own, resting and panting his passion.

 

Logan went down too, as Jean-Luc pressed him to the floor. He's still inside me! Logan suddenly realized. He never expected this to turn him on, but he hadn't come this hard since… Can't remember…

 

Looking down, Jean-Luc realized he'd exhausted his partner. "Going to pull back now," he warned Logan.

 

"What… Damn!" That actually hurt… such sweet agony! Logan bit his lip.

 

"You got any idea how you look?" Jean-Luc said lovingly, stroking the man's back.

Logan didn't bother with trying to get to his feet. First, he wanted to savour this feeling. Jean-Luc's come dripped from his ass and he wondered… "What do I look like?"

 

"Like de sweetest fuck I've had in 15 years…" Jean-Luc complimented him.

 

"HA!" Logan laughed warmly, trying to roll onto his back.

 

Jean-Luc wrapped an arm around Logan's waist and pulled him into a sitting position. "I just realized that I haven't kissed you yet…" Logan's hooded eyes mirrored his surprise. "What?"

 

"Don't turn romantic on me, Cajun!"

 

"But I am a romantic!" Jean-Luc exclaimed amused.

 

"This is romantic? Pinning me to floor and fucking me without warning?"

 

"Non, dis is pure lust, Logan," Jean-Luc corrected him, "But if you want de romantic treatment as well, dat can be arranged!" With one fast move he grabbed Logan's head and pulled the Canadian close.

 

Logan sighed as bruising lips suckled his, forcing his lips apart and exploring every inch of his mouth. This is romantic? Guess I underestimated ya, Cajun! Logan allowed the invasion, but then grabbed Jean-Luc shoulders and growled. "Just that ya know it, Cajun. Next time, I'm gonna fuck you."

 

"You can try, mon ami! But for now let's clean up. I want to look in on Remy, make sure he doesn't have any nightmares."

 

"I'll tag along… in a sec," Logan whispered, finally able to regulate his breathing.

 

///

 

After a quick shower, both men descended down the stairs. "What are ya gonna do about Remy? The kid told me once 'bout bein' exiled." The guilty expression in Jean-Luc's eyes made Logan wonder. The revelation was sudden and unexpected. "Ya feel outa control, don't ya?" That was why Jean-Luc had dominated their first sexual exchange. Ya needed to feel in control!

 

"In a certain way you're right," Jean-Luc admitted and opened the door to Remy's room. The sleeping meds should be doing their work, supplying his son with undisturbed dreams. "I want to sit with him."

 

"I understand." Logan also straddled a chair. Only now he realized how young Remy really looked. "But yer wrong, ya know…" Jean-Luc eyed him questioningly so Logan continued, "Kid's stronger than ya think."

 

"Non, he isn't," Jean-Luc objected. "But he'll grow strong again." Tenderly, he took hold of his son's hand. "Do you have children, Logan?"

 

An uncomfortable shiver ran down Logan's spine. "I promised to look after one," he admitted. "But I don't see her often."

 

"I love Remy and to me, he is my own flesh and blood." Protectively, he rubbed the knuckles of Remy's hand. "And I failed him."

 

"Don't be too hard on yerself," Logan said after a moment's thought. "Ya can't change the past."

 

Dat's where you are wrong, mon ami, Jean-Luc thought bitterly. I brought dis fate upon Remy. If I had opposed de Antiquary dis would never have happened.

 

"Poppa?"

 

Remy's voice tore at Jean-Luc's soul. "Oui, I'm here, petite." The smile that surfaced on his son's face was heart wrenching.

 

"Stay?" In his state of half sleep Remy barely recognized his poppa's voice.

 

"Oui, I'll stay, Remy…"

 

"And so will I."

 

Jean-Luc gave Logan a thankful look. "Remy needs friends."

 

Irritated, Logan snapped, "And Wings ran out on him!"

 

"Suddenly finding yourself attracted to a man can be a scaring experience," Jean-Luc offered. "And I've got dis feeling dat Warren is still fighting himself."

 

Remy turned onto his right side, flinching when the ache in his side worsened. But the sound of familiar voices assured him that it was okay to surrender to sleep. Please… don'… let me… dream of… mon ange… Being abandoned still hurt too much!

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Warren lazily stretched his body and flexed his wings. His injury hardly bothered him any more. Might have something to do with the fact that Jean had checked on the wound last night. She'd said that it had healed nicely and he could do without the bandage. His wing had also recovered. Thanks to Remy… He cleaned and bandaged the injury.

 

His belly grumbled loudly, reminding him that it was time for breakfast. As he slipped into jeans and sweater, he mused about how well he'd slept after making the decision to head back to New Orleans. Bobby would drive him after breakfast and suddenly he felt nervous. Would Jean-Luc even allow him near Remy after the hurt he'd caused? He had to take that risk and face the patriarch.

 

"Warren? I'm hungry!" Bobby quipped and banged loudly on Warren's door. Hopefully his friend hadn’t change his mind overnight. He still didn't know the identity of Warren's love, but it was obvious that Warren cared a lot about this man. It would be a shame if Warren crawled back from commitment at this point.

 

"I hear you, Ice cube!" Warren replied and drew in a deep breath. Scott and Jean had been pleased to see him back at the mansion and now he had to tell them that he was leaving again. Bobby was right; he'd been away most of the time. It made Bobby's friendship even more valuable, considering his tiny input into the friendship.

 

As he touched the doorknob, he yanked back his hand. Bobby had frozen it. "Drake!" Maybe Bets is right too… maybe I'm a spoiled kid…

 

The door opened and Bobby gave Warren a huge smile. "Let's grab a bite to eat and then I'll drive you to the airport. Is that fine with you?"

 

"Yes." Warren closely observed his friend. "You're looking forward to your date this eve?"

 

Bobby turned quiet. "I hope I won't mess things up." What really worried Bobby was how Nicholas would react when he found out that he was dating a mutant.

 

///

 

Scott and Jean were already eating breakfast when they strolled into the room. "Morning." Scott looked at his team-mates, relieved to see that the dark, broody spell that had devoured Warren yesterday had lifted. "Help yourselves to some bacon and eggs!"

 

"How's your wound? Is it still troubling you?" Jean asked mildly concerned.

 

"I feel reborn!" Warren admitted with a sparkling smile. And all that because I made up my mind about Remy! Briefly, he felt guilty for not telling them that the Cajun thief was still alive, but he wanted Remy's permission first before he told anyone.

 

"Here," Bobby handed Warren his plate, already piled up with food. As they sat down, Bobby studied Warren. Yeah, he's going to follow through! Cool!

 

Warren dug into the food now that his appetite was finally back. "I'm leaving later today," he announced, already anticipating Jean's protest. "I got some unfinished business to take care of."

 

"But you just got here!" Jean protested, but Bobby's wink distracted her. "What?"

 

"He's in love!" Bobby exploded. "Let him go!"

 

"In love?" Scott smiled. "You and Bets are together again?"

 

"No," Warren said steadfast. "It's not Bets." Underneath the table he kicked Bobby's leg for telling on him.

 

In response, Bobby reached down and froze Warren's shoes.

 

"Stop that," Scott whispered exasperated. "You're too old to act like that."

 

"No, we're not," Warren and Bobby objected simultaneously.

 

"Do we know the lady?" Jean inquired curiously. Considering the looks Bobby was giving her, there was more to this story.

 

Suddenly, his heart pounded in his chest. It was time to come clean. Warren looked to Bobby for much needed emotional support. Bobby's sparkling eyes made it easier. "It's no lady. It's a man." Warren just knew that underneath that visor Scott arched an eyebrow.

 

"A man… how…"

 

"Interesting," Jean supplied, saving her husband's ass. "So, do we know him?"

 

Now, Warren felt cornered. "I haven't told him yet, so… I want to keep this private a little longer."

 

Jean smiled warmly. "I understand, don't we, Scott?"

 

Scott was lost in thought. "What, dear?"

 

"We understand!" Jean repeated and elbowed him.

 

"Yes, we do," Scott said eventually. Hell, they'd accepted that Bobby was gay, so Warren was bi? No big deal… I can handle it… I hope.

 

"You're going to tell him later today? How romantic," Jean stated in between bites and hardly resisted snooping around in Warren's mind. But she didn't, knowing she would be mad too if someone sneaked into her mind uninvited.

 

"So how are things around the mansion?" Warren asked after finishing breakfast. Leaning back into his chair he enjoyed his first cup of coffee.

 

"Pretty quiet," Jean replied in an unexpected sad tone. "Too quiet."

 

Scott placed his hand on hers, giving her an encouraging smile. "We all miss him."

 

Curiously, Warren shifted his look from Jean to Warren. "Miss who? Hank? The professor?"

 

"I miss Remy." Saddened, Jean dropped her knife and fork onto the plate. "I miss hearing him laugh and driving us mad."

 

"I still don’t know what happened after we left the Citadel," Warren pointed out to them, eager to learn more. Judging from Jean's reaction she wouldn't mind him bringing the Cajun back to mansion… if Remy still wants me.

 

"I wasn't there," Scott took over, "But it looks like Remy wanted to die. Somehow, his emotions got into Rogue's mind and she couldn't help but give in."

 

"Re… Gambit wanted to die?" Warren corrected himself. He didn't want them to grow suspicious. He couldn't answer their questions yet!

 

"To atone for his mistakes," Scott said softly.

 

Warren looked at his old friend. Did he hear disapproval in that voice?

 

"After I heard what had happened," Scott resumed, "Bobby and I took the Black Bird and returned to Antarctica. We really tried to find him."

 

"But we failed," Bobby interrupted saddened. "I can only assume that the ice and snow covered his body… that he slid into an ice crater and that the instruments didn't pick up on him."

 

"Yuh went back?"

 

The voice came from the corridor and Warren quickly turned around. Rogue and Joseph stood in the doorway and the expression in Rogue's eyes warned Warren to choose his words carefully. One way or the other, he'd find out the truth about Antarctica!

 

Part 16

 

A dreadful silence descended onto the room. As Warren watched their faces, he realized that Joseph and Scott definitely felt uncomfortable. "So," Warren started and leaned back, "Gambit wanted to die?" Somehow he couldn't believe that. The street rat that had saved his life twice had definitely been hanging onto life, a true survivor. But he was curious to hear Rogue's answer.

 

"Yeah," Rogue nodded her head. "Cajun wanted tuh die. He was in my head. Ah don't know how he did it, but Ah couldn't help it and gave him what he wanted."

 

"I wonder," Warren whispered and eyed her critically. "Was he already dead when you left him?" A brief flicker of hesitance shone in her eyes and he grinned. Scott also seemed very interested in her answer. It wouldn't surprise me to learn that they avoided discussing this issue, Poor Rogue, he thought, mocking her supposed innocence. Isn't it easy to put all blame on Remy?

 

"Dead," she whispered without adding further explanation.

 

Warren noticed the way she grabbed onto Joseph's hand. Her bare skin demonstratively touching his. Something about this didn't feel right. "And you didn't bring back the body? He is… was an X-Men… entitled to a decent funeral."

 

Bobby's eyes grew a little bigger, hearing Warren's statement. It almost felt like his friend was defending Gambit!

 

"What's yur problem, Flyboy?" Rogue asked in an unexpectedly vicious tone. "Swamp rat gathered the Marauders. They took yur wings!"

 

Warren's grin grew bigger. So you don't like me asking these questions? Considering his next step he looked at Scott. Definitely worried, Warren noticed pleased. This didn't sit right with Scott either! He had to keep her off balance to get to the core of this matter. Maybe… "Why didn't Scott and Bobby find his corpse then? Or did it magically disappear?" He waved his hand dramatically. "Did Scotty beam it up?"

 

Bobby couldn't help himself and giggled softly. Oh, Warren was getting himself into big trouble, defying Rogue. But he couldn't help but wonder about the same thing. His eyes locked with Jean's and he could almost hear her thoughts, Yes, why didn't we find his corpse?

 

Joseph felt terrible uneasy and conflicted. Although he loved Rogue, he'd liked Gambit as well. The Cajun had backed him up a few times when no one else had believed his ideas would work. The thought that his love could have left a man to die in Antarctica was unsettling. "You told me he was dead." They hadn't touched the subject in depth yet, as he respected her privacy.

 

Rogue's eyes shot fire. "Swamp rat was dead!" Her fingers tightened around Joseph's. "Ah don't owe yuh, Flyboy! Cajun hurt both of us!"

 

Warren suddenly realized what game she was playing and stopped Scott from cutting off their conversation. "He wasn't dead when you left him," he stated determinedly. How would she react to that?

 

"How would yuh know? Yuh weren't there!" Rogue exclaimed, wondering what had gotten into Warren all of a sudden. "Yuh never liked him to begin with. What's he tuh yuh?"

 

Scott gave Warren an alarming glance. Don't go there, Warren, don't!

 

But Warren got to his feet and walked up to the couple. "What's he to me? A team-mate. No matter what mistakes he made, he's a team-mate!"

 

That's funny! Bobby mused, Warren's talking about Gambit in the present tense! Again, he focused on his friend. He'd learned to read Warren's body language a long time ago. His friend was seriously pissed. Looks like Mr. Angry is gonna pop out! And he couldn't blame Warren. Rogue'd had this coming since Antarctica.

 

"Sugah, he took yur wings!" Rogue pointed out to him, but noticed the estranged look Joseph gave her.

 

"Gambit didn't destroy my wings. Don't use that lame old excuse on me." Warren's eyes darkened. "What excuse do you have for leaving him out there to die in the freezing cold? Leaving a team-mate behind, knowing damn well that he couldn't possibly survive in that frozen hell?"

 

Unexpectedly, Scott rose from his chair and came to a halt next to Warren, studying both of them. "Warren, Rogue…"

 

"What?" Warren turned around. "Don’t you want to know the truth, Slim?"

 

It was a frightening question, but Scott made his decision. "Actually, I do want to know what happened, Rogue. You were the last to see him alive…"

 

Bobby nodded his head, reaching a conclusion of his own. "You decided to punish him for his mistakes and flew away." But at the same time he realized something else, something which he kept to himself. That could mean that Gambit made it out alive somehow. We never found his body!

 

"Rogue? Don't tell me you sentenced him to death!" Joseph exclaimed hurt. He really, really loved this woman, but this doubt was eating him. As if bitten by a snake, he released her hand. "We need to talk."

 

"Sugah," Rogue whispered, brushing her fingertips over his face. "He was dead when Ah left him!"

 

"Show me his corpse and I believe you," Scott stated determinedly. "I never wanted to even consider that you left him there alive. It's Antarctica! No one survives there!"

 

But maybe Gambit did, Bobby mused, trying to read the expression in Warren's eyes. Why are you so damned passionate about defending Gambit? Rogue made one valid point. You never liked Remy.

 

"Rogue, now!" Joseph pulled her further into the corridor.

 

Warren's grin turned into a lazy smile. Now that he knew for sure that Rogue lied about Antarctica, things start to make a little more sense. "She judged and sentenced him. She was jury, judge and executioner in one, judging him to..."

 

"Death," Bobby finished for him. Now that Rogue and Joseph had left the room he grabbed Warren's shoulders. "Why? You never liked Gambit. Why defend him?"

 

Warren stared into Bobby's eyes, realizing his friend was only one step away from putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. Drake wasn't stupid and would figure out the truth about Remy and he. "I just want to know the truth, Ice Cube" he replied eventually. "Antarctica should never have happened!"

 

Bobby picked up an apple and patted Warren's shoulder. "C'mon. Your plane's waiting for you."

 

Scott stopped him before Warren could leave the room. "Did Scotty beam him up? You really need to stop watching Star Trek, Warren!"

 

"It was Bobby's fault," Warren quickly defended himself. "He made me watch every damn episode of the Next Generation!"

 

"Hey, Q is cool!" Bobby grinned teasingly. "Let's go."

 

This time, Scott stepped aside. "Don't take too long before visiting us again, Warren!"

 

"I'll keep in touch," Warren replied without real commitment. Maybe, one day he'd return here, but only with Remy at his side. Rogue would have to admit that she'd left Remy behind when the Cajun's stood in front of her!

 

///

 

"Warren? Hold on a sec!" Bobby handed him the briefcase. The plane was ready to leave, the pilot already waving Warren to quickly board or they'd miss their time slot. "I've been thinking about this."

 

"About what?" Warren grabbed his coat and put up the collar. There was a chilly wind today.

 

"How do you know that Gambit was still alive when she left him?" Bobby cocked his head, getting closer to the truth all the time. "You can only know that when you've seen him. And you also spoke about him in the present tense. Tell me, Warren, is Remy still alive?"

 

Briefly, they stood in silence. Warren was scared to answer and Bobby wasn't sure he could deal with the truth.

 

"Is he?" Bobby repeated. "I need to know, Warren."

 

"Bobby," he whispered softly. He couldn't lie to his best friend. "Don't make me tell you."

 

Bobby's eyes widened. "Are you telling me that he survived? That would explain why we couldn't find his body!" Excitement coursed through him. "I always hoped he made it out alive somehow! The whole trial was so unfair! From what Hank told me Remy didn’t stand a chance!"

 

"Just… don't tell the others, Bobby. I doubt Remy wants them to know the truth."

 

"Remy?" Bobby repeated questioningly. "When did Gambit turn into Remy? You always kept this distance…" His eyes almost popped out of their sockets and he shook Warren's shoulders wildly in bewilderment. "I can't believe this! But it's the only thing that makes sense!"

 

Warren cringed. Why did Bobby have to figure this one out?

 

"That's it, of course… You coming here, raving and ranting about being in love with a man and then I find out that Remy's still alive! Warren, you bastard! You could have told me the truth! I know how to keep a secret!" His head spun. "You're in love with Remy? Oh, this is great!"

 

"Stop a sock in it…" Warren warned him. "One word to the others and…"

 

"My lips are sealed… frozen…" Bobby quipped delighted. "Now get back to him, man! Don’t keep him waiting."

 

Hesitantly, Warren reached for Bobby to give him a hug. He was still uncomfortable with showing affection in public. His dad hardly ever hugged him and he remembered the love in Jean-Luc's eyes when he'd kissed Remy's brow. His own dad would never have done such a thing, no matter how ill he'd been!

 

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked as he walked Warren to the plane. "Just in case Rogue decides to fly after you. That way I can send her in the opposite direction." Warren's hug had surprised him, but it had also pleases him to learn that Warren was willing to work on his flaws. Too thick a skull for his own good!

 

Warren considered the question. Yeah, maybe Bobby should know where to find him if something went wrong at the mansion. "New Orleans. I'll e-mail you the address."

 

"Cool!" Bobby nodded his head. "I'll keep you posted, Warren."

 

"Thanks." As they reached the stairs, he looked Bobby in the eyes. "Would you freeze Betsy's shower for me?"

 

Bobby burst out laughing. "We did that too many times! What about… putting ice in her mattress? She'll end up soaked once she lays down and the ice starts to melt!"

 

"Sounds like a hell of an idea, Ice Cube," Warren said fondly. "We'll be talking online."

 

"Don’t forget my email addy," Bobby wiggled an eyebrow. "I got bored with the old one. My new addy is Furryblueballs@hotmail.com."

 

Warren almost choked in his laughter. "You better not tell Hank!"

 

Bobby gave him a mischievous grin. "Let me guess yours, WWorthington@Enterprises.com. Obviously, no inspiration or creativity!"

 

Ashamed, Warren had to admit Bobby had guessed correctly. "Maybe Remy will inspire me?"

 

"Good answer!" Bobby complimented him and waved good-bye. "Take good care of yourself, Warren… and look after Remy for me!"

 

"I will," Warren whispered as the cabin door closed behind him. 

 

///

 

New Orleans

 

As Remy opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he was alone in his room. For some reason he felt relieved, glad to have a private moment. The sleeping meds no longer made him feel groggy and mischievously, he looked around. How many days had he already been confided to bed? The wound didn't really hurt that badly any longer and he was tempted to try and get to his feet. He just had to make sure that poppa wouldn't catch him. After yawning lazily, he flipped back the comforter and flinched involuntarily. His side hurt after all!

 

"Mais dat's not stoppin' me!" He was fed up with lying in bed! As he struggled to his feet, he tried hard not to think of the things, which had happened lately. More specifically, he tried to avoid thinking of Warren. For the briefest of moments he'd hoped he'd made a real friend. But now that his memory slowly returned, he knew better. He'd fooled himself into thinking that they were friends. He remembered the first time he'd met Warren. Although he'd never disliked Angel, Warren seemed to instinctively loathe him. "Mais why? Why did he feel dat way? I never wronged him…" Or had he just done that in the past? Part of his memory was still blank. So how could he be sure he'd never earned the distrust and loathing he remembered so clearly?

 

Remy pressed his hand against his side, blocking out the pain. Looking about, he decided to try to head for the bathroom again. An unexpected wave of vertigo hit him and he grabbed the back of the armchair. Merde! What was going on? Bloodshed eyes stared at him from the darkness. Was he back in the tunnels? Non, not de tunnels… he realized and shivered. His lab! Si… Sini… Sinister's lab… De place where it started! He firmly closed his eyes. Don' want to see dis!

 

But his mind decided that he was ready to face the truth. A red diamond shone from the dark, gesturing him closer. "Non," he whispered. "Don' want to be here!" But Sinister ignored his protest.

 

Finally, part of his painful past returned to him. Went to him 'cause I needed help wid my powers. Dey were so strong dat I couldn' control dem any longer. I heard Sinister was de right man for dat job and I… asked him to help me. He accepted, mais wanted my services in return. One of de t'ings he demanded was dat I assemble de… Marauders…

 

He doubled over as another horrific memory crushed his mind. De Morlocks! Remy fell to his knees, hugging his waist, no longer worried that his wound might open again. The pain and terror he re-experienced was all consuming. It was de last t'ing Sinister wanted me to do. Help de Marauders convince de Morlocks dat dey weren' in danger. Mais Creed was dere and I… I led dem into de tunnels.

 

A girl appeared in his mind, bones sticking out of her shoulders and face. I tried to stop dem, I really did, mais dere were too many and Creed… Tears sprang from his eyes, as he relived the biggest mistake he'd ever made. He should never have given in to Sinister's demands!

 

His hands clawed at his chest. Creed had ripped the flesh there open, leaving him for dead, but he'd survived and so had the girl. Although his shields had been raised, he'd felt the pain seeping into the walls all around him. The tunnels had reeked of death.

 

"I could have prevented de Massacre," Remy whispered crestfallen.

 

"Nope, kid."

 

The voice came from behind him and alarmed, Remy tried to jump to his feet, completely forgetting his injury and the fact that had been mostly asleep during these last days. He lost his balance and prepared to take the fall, but a strong hand steadied him.

 

"Take it easy, bub. What are ya doin' outta bed?" Worried, Logan looked at the hunched figure. "Ya keep defyin' yer dad, huh? Stubborn Cajun!" Once he was convinced that Remy wouldn't fall again, he released the hold he had on the young Cajun. He refrained from reprimanding Remy for getting out of bed. Instead, he leaned against the wall and watched Remy struggle back to bed. "Yer memory is comin' back," Logan stated with certainty.

 

Reluctantly, Remy nodded his head as he cautiously sat down. "I remember gettin' dem killed," Remy whispered barely audible. Why was Logan still here? Why care about a… traitor?

 

Logan moved a little closer. He'd wanted to ask Remy these questions ever since finding out about the Cajun's involvement. "Why did ya work for him?" What was Remy hiding from him?

 

Remy tried not to inhale too deeply as his side stung viciously. "My powers…" Remy started in a defeated tone. "Dey were too strong. I couldn' control dem. Was so 'fraid dat I was goin' to blow someone up when it slipped. I needed help."

 

"And Sinister knows a lot 'bout mutant powers," Logan realized in sudden understanding. If only the kid had known about Chuck!

 

"Oui," Remy mumbled discouraged and cold shivers ran down his spine. He vividly remembered Sinister's calm and controlled tone when the scientist had prepared him for surgery. "Sinister explained de procedure to me."

 

"What procedure?" Cautiously, Logan sat down next the Cajun, who hugged his waist. If I push him too far and he'll clamp up 'gain!

 

"He altered my brain," Remy whispered and seemed to shrink into himself, ashamed of his admission, ashamed for letting Sinister do this to him. "He removed brain stem matter…"

 

Remy's voice dropped completely after speaking that last word. "Never told anyone. That's why I agreed to work for Sinister." He choked back the burning tears in his eyes. "Mebbe… mebbe it would have been better if I had just blown myself up," he sobbed helplessly. That way the Marauders would never have slaughtered the defenceless Morlocks.

 

"Remy." It was the first time that Logan spoke that name with such affection and concern. Logan surprised himself as he slowly lifted a hand to rest it on Remy's shoulder. The pain and sadness that had filled the Cajun's voice actually made him ache as well. "Don't say that."

 

"Mais it's de trut'," Remy maintained and carefully shrugged his shoulders. "It was a small sacrifice to make." Hesitantly, he lifted his eyes and peeked at Logan's. "I was so stupid…"

 

Acting on impulse, Logan pulled Remy a little closer, offering him comfort. "Ya did what ya had to survive," he whispered eventually, understanding the kid only too well. This explained Remy's involvement with Sinister but, "why did Sinister want ya in the tunnels?"

 

"He told me he wanted to help de Morlocks control deir powers… I hoped dat dey would t'ink of me as a friend. Didn' want Creed gettin' mad 'cause de Morlocks weren' co-operatin'." Remy drew away into himself, unwilling to look at Logan any longer. He could only hope that the Canadian would understand his situation. Wanted to help de Morlocks! Dey couldn' control deir powers eider and after Sinister helped me… I hoped he could do de same for dem! He'd never realized how evil Sinister was. Too naive, too young and too damn lonely!

 

"And ya never told anyone," Logan said compassionately. "Ya were 'fraid we would condemn ya without knowin' the whole deal?"

 

Remy wasn't sure what to say. "Still don' remember everyt'in' dat happened after the Massacre…" Oui, he remembered surviving Creed's attack, finding Storm in Cairo and joining up with the X-Men, but after that everything went blank.

 

"Ya never told Rogue?" Logan asked disapprovingly. Damn, Cajun! Ya should have told us! We didn't even get the chance to prove ourselves to ya. We would have accepted that truth, but ya never gave us the choice!

 

"Rogue?" Remy shook his head. "Who's dat?" The name sounded familiar, but…

 

Logan patted the Cajun's shoulder. It only made sense that Remy would forget about the one who'd hurt him most. "Yer ain't ready to remember that yet."

 

Standing in the doorway Jean-Luc watched the scene. He felt immensely thankful that Logan had been there for his son when Remy had needed the emotional support. Remy's admission that he'd worked for Sinister didn't shock him, but what angered him was that Sinister had used Remy so viciously. His son had needed help and Sinister had abused that need.

 

It was so like Remy to keep this all inside and to try to deal with it on his own. It had cost Jean-Luc years to earn Remy's trust, the X-Men had never stood a chance! After being exiled from New Orleans and Sinister playing him, Remy had lost the ability to trust.

 

Sensing his poppa's eyes on him, Remy pleadingly met his father's eyes. "I was scared," he admitted in a choked tone. "Didn' want to take someone wid me when my powers went berserk."

 

Jean-Luc walked towards his son. "And you didn't want to die either. You're a fighter, son. Don't ever forget dat."

 

"What's dere to fight for?" Remy allowed his poppa to pull him back into bed until he lay down again. The sudden hurt in Jean-Luc's eyes startled Remy. "Didn' mean it like dat, poppa! Don' want to lose you!"

 

"Den fight," Jean-Luc stated resolved. "Don't give up. I'll be with you every step of de way."

 

"Yer old man's right, ya know," Logan cut in. "Ya don't have to do this 'lone."

 

"You still want to be my friend?" Remy asked in disbelief. "After all I just told you?"

 

Logan nodded his head. "Ya gotta forgive yerself for lettin' Sinister use ya," Logan whispered and rose from the bed. "I'll be back later. I need to make a phone call." After hearing Remy's depressing tale he'd made his decision. What was there to fight for? Remy had asked him. Yer willin' to fight for Wings… This was only the beginning. Logan was determined to see to it that Remy's wounds healed. Once Remy had recovered from the trauma Logan would again suggest removing those shackles. It frustrated him that Remy was still suppressing and denying his mutant powers in such a way. I want those shackles off!

 

Remy watched Logan leave the room and held onto Jean-Luc's hand. "I ain' sure I still got de strength to fight, poppa."

 

"Den let me be your strength," Jean-Luc offered passionately.

 

"Poppa." Remy smiled gratefully, touched by the love and affection in Jean-Luc's voice. This man had saved his life too many times to count. "You want me to fight and beat dis?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc confirmed. "You're my son. I want what's best for you." He savoured the sudden determination that shone from Remy's eyes. "You're so special to me, Remy. You made dis old thief's heart feel alive again when you accepted my name."

 

"Every child should have a poppa like you," Remy whispered taken aback. Even after so many years he still didn't quite understand why the patriarch of the thieves' Guild had decided to adopt and care for him, le diable blanc.

 

Jean-Luc pulled him into an embrace. "No more talk of giving up, petite. It's time to look at de future." Stroking back some locks he cupped his son's chin in his hand. "Never doubt dat I love you, Remy LeBeau!"

 

A smile surfaced on Remy's face. Oui, all he needed to beat this depression was Jean-Luc's support and love. Like Logan had said, he didn't have to do this on his own. Resolved, he nodded his head. "Will try," he promised softly.

 

///

 

New Orleans International Airport

 

The city sparkled with sunlight as his plane touched down. Now that he was back, Warren was getting nervous. He had to call Jean-Luc LeBeau and hope that the patriarch would give him a second chance. It would probably be wise to ask Jean-Luc for an escort. Warren realized only too well how quickly the assassins would learn of his return.

 

If Jean-Luc refused to help him, he'd fly to the house. He wouldn't allow a few assassins to keep him from attaining his goal! He'd fought Sinister, Apocalypse, Magneto, and countless other villains! No way he'd give in now that Remy was this close.

 

The plane reached a stop and he fished his phone from his jacket. He'd memorized Jean-Luc's phone number when he'd first called Logan.

 

"Logan!" he whispered suddenly. He'd completely forgotten about Logan! The Canadian would love to see him squirm for Jean-Luc's help and approval!

 

///

 

"Got a sec to talk to me, kid?" Logan inquired. Jean-Luc had asked him to sit with Remy during the Cajun's absence, as some telephone calls demanded the patriarch's attention. Logan strode into the room and smiled approvingly at the sight of Remy mocking in bed. "Ya heard yer old man. Stay put!"

 

"Grumpy old Wolvie," Remy retorted and gave Logan a wicked smile. Although Logan and he'd never had any issues, only now he realized that the older man considered him a friend. My only one, 'cept for poppa. The thought stung.

 

"Now don’t start with me, bub," Logan replied in a similar fashion and sat on the side of the bed. "I wanna to talk to you 'bout those shackles."

 

"Shackles?" Remy looked puzzled. "I t'ought… " Remy grew silent. Shackles… that sounded like someone had put them on to restrain him. "Why am I wearin' dem?"

 

He still doesn't remember Antarctica… Logan wasn't sure what to do. The doctors had strongly urged them to give Remy more time to remember. The young man's memory would return once he was ready to face his past. Pushing Remy would only result in damage, but Remy obviously expected an answer. "It happened durin' a mission. Things went wrong."

 

Remy gave Logan a questioning look.

 

"Yer memories will come back once yer ready to deal with them." Logan hoped that the kid wouldn't push him. "Trust me on this, Cajun."

 

"You still want to remove dem?" Remy didn't like the look of determination in Logan's eyes. "Please don'."

 

"Why?" Unnoticed, Logan took hold of the still bandaged wrist and probed the tightness of the shackles. Yeah, he could slip a claw underneath the metal. "Because of yer charm?" Shivers tormented Remy's body and Logan realized he'd have a hard time talking some sense into the Cajun.

 

"Poppa told you?" Well, if his father trusted Logan with this information, maybe he should try putting his trust in the Canadian as well. "Charm will be strong once dey get off. Still don' remember how to control it."

 

"That's what worries ya? That it'll slip?"

 

"Oui," Remy replied softly and locked eyes with Logan. "Did poppa also tell you what de charm… does to people?" He really didn’t want to discuss this with a man he hardly knew.

 

"Yer scared that," Logan paused, wondering how the hell to phrase this, "we'll hurt ya?"

 

Defeated, Remy nodded his head. "Dat's why I want dem to stay on. Makes me feel safe. I don' have to use all my energy to control de charm. I can… rest… I don' have to worry 'bout blockin' people's feelings."

 

Pleadingly, Remy's eyes focused on the older man. "Poppa wants me to survive, to become stronger… I can only do dat wid dem on… I need more rest… more time." Mon Dieu, did he really see understanding in those blue eyes?

 

"Make ya a deal, kid," Logan said thoughtfully and allowed for one claw to slip underneath the shackle. "What if I cut through them… That way ya can still keep them on, but should ya change yer mind, ya can slip them off. That way yer in charge." It was the only thing he could come up with. If the kid got into trouble again, at least that way Remy could use his charging power to defend himself.

 

"Not sure 'bout dat," Remy whispered uncomfortably. He understood Logan's desire to set him free, 'Mais… I like it better dis way. Never wanted my powers. Dey hurt me," Remy mumbled the apology.

 

"Just let me cut through the metal, Remy." Logan used the name on purpose, hoping it'd convince the young Cajun that he only had his best interest in mind.

 

Remy considered the request. Won' make much of a difference. "And dey'll still keep my powers under control?"

 

"Yeah." Logan didn't feel guilty for this white lie. He wasn't sure the damaged shackles would keep Remy from using his powers, but he had to take the risk. The kid might never give him permission again!

 

Suspiciously, Remy eyed the older man. "Ain' sure," he whispered eventually.

 

"C'mon, kid. Yer old man and I'll be here to keep an eye on ya!" Logan sighed exasperated. "I know yer 'fraid," he added in a gentler tone, "But ya've got to take that first step if ya really want to heal."

 

Remy had promised his poppa to try. He'd vowed to fight this depression and to let them be his strength, but it was harder than he'd thought it would be. But he couldn't give up now. Poppa was right about one thing; he wasn't a quitter. He was a survivor and he refused to give up now. He still had Jean-Luc and tante to fight for. They wouldn't let him down and maybe, just maybe, he could now add Logan to that short list as well.

 

"Please, kid. Trust me 'nough to do this," Logan said, making one more attempt. This was it. If Remy refused he'd stop pushing.

 

"Do it," Remy whispered in a barely audible tone. "It scares de hell outta me, sayin' oui, mais poppa always told me to face my fears." His arms shook as he extended them, offering Logan the shackles. In his entire life he'd only trusted a handful of people; Jean-Luc, tante and he'd thought he could trust Warren as well, but his angel had left him. But, maybe he was ready to trust Logan.

 

Realizing the big step for what was, Logan smiled flattered. "Thanks, kid. I really appreciate the trust." Slowly, he unsheathed a claw on his other hand as well and pushed them simultaneously underneath the shackles. "Yer sure?"

 

Remy took a deep breath. Non, he wasn't sure, but realized he had to do this. "Oui," he whispered shakily. Stunned, he watched the two adamantium claws cut through the metal shackles, seemingly leaving them whole.

 

"Ya can bend them, when yer ready to remove the shackles," Logan informed him. "What did ya expect?" he asked, noticing Remy's confused expression. "That they'd drop to the floor?"

 

"Oui," Remy admitted softly. But close examination revealed that the shackles could be removed. Remy wasn't sure how he felt about that.

 

"Ya decide when to take them off, kid. Ya need to be in control." Logan got to his feet, pleased with his achievement. "Anythin' else, bub?"

 

Uncomfortably, Remy looked at the older man. Merde. Logan was right. He needed to be in control! "Would you ask poppa if he heard from…" In the end, he couldn't speak the name.

 

"Warren?" Logan supplied with a sad smile on his face. "Yer still hopin' he will be back, kid? I'm so sorry…"

 

Head bowed in defeat, Remy's fingers dug into the comforter. "I know it's… silly," Remy confessed softly. "Mais… " How could he explain the ache that filled his heart and soul?

 

"I tried to call him for ya," Logan revealed and nodded his head as Remy looked up in surprise. "But his phone was busy. Want me to try later?"

 

"Would you do dat?" Remy exclaimed excited. "Jus' want to know if his wound's healin'."

 

"Remy, ya got to face the truth," Logan said in a subdued tone. "Wings ain't comin' back. I know admittin' that's hard, but…" Remy's draped eyes silenced him. Shit, kid knew the truth, but…

 

"I know he ain' comin' back, Logan., mais… don' take 'way my hope? Please?" Drained, Remy pulled up the comforter and curled up onto his side. He needed to feel safe, needed this hope to keep him from giving up.

 

"Sure, kid," Logan growled softly. Remy's 'hope' stung for several reasons. Warren wouldn't come back. Worthington had probably already forgotten about the Cajun. Remy was living a dream that would never come true and the Cajun would only end up hurt because of it. "Anythin' else?" Logan asked again.

 

"Non, merci, Logan." Remy closed his eyes, pushing his body deeper into the mattress. His right hand slipped to his left wrist to make sure that the shackles were still in place. He wasn't worried about his charging power. He might blow up some stuff, but poppa was used to that. Non, it was his charm that troubled him. How had he controled it? How could he have forgotten such an important part of his life, which resolved around keeping that damned mutant power at bay!

 

As Logan's footfalls echoed into the hallway, Remy opened his eyes again. Lovingly, his eyes caressed the items in the room. "Just a little longer," he prayed with pain in his heart, "Just let me rest a little longer 'fore I have to leave 'gain." Although poppa'd assured him that he could stay as long as necessary, he recognized the lie within the truth. At one point the assassins would get fed up with him living at home again and they'd start pressuring poppa. "Dere is not'in' he can do…" Remy hid underneath the comforter, trying to push the unsettling thoughts away. "I'll have to leave N'awlins… soon."

 

///

 

"Logan? I need you to do something for me," Jean-Luc mentally replayed the conversation he'd just had.

 

"What?" Logan straddled a chair and looked at the patriarch, feeling a stabbing lust in his groin. Damn, he was running out of patience! Soon, he planned on getting even with the man who'd dominated him so completely!

 

"I had a very interesting phone call," Jean-Luc stated and rose from behind the desk. "Warren Worthington just arrived at de airport."

 

Logan's eyes revealed surprise. "Why? I thought that there's a prize on his head? Assassins will wanna collect."

 

Jean-Luc sighed as Logan walked up behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist. Enjoying the moment, he leaned back into the embrace. "Apparently, he's here for Remy."

 

Logan tightened the embrace. "I can't believe this. Wings is back?"

 

"And is asking for a second chance." Jean-Luc rubbed his brow. "Dere's too much happening lately," he whispered fatigued. "And now de assassins are rearing deir ugly heads as well. Dey want Remy out of de city. Dey threatened to kill Remy de first time he steps outside de house."

 

Angered, Logan rested his chin on Jean-Luc's shoulder. "Ya need to get the kid into safety."

 

"Oui… Dat's why I'm willing to give Warren a second chance. He can take Remy away from here and look after him." Jean-Luc had pondered his decision since Warren had called. "He sounded sincere."

 

"Cajun?" Logan slowly turned Jean-Luc around so he could look into his eyes. "Wings is a selfish kinda guy. "

 

Jean-Luc cocked his head, studying Logan's expression. "You don't like him much."

 

"He's an arrogant prick!" Logan exclaimed as he brought his face closer to Jean-Luc, almost close enough to kiss, but not yet touching the man yet. "I'm just worried he might hurt the kid. Remy can't take much more."

 

"I'm glad you care about Remy," Jean-Luc started and then brushed his new lover's lips. "Mais dere's a lot you have to learn about Remy."

 

"Like what?" Logan deepened the kiss and growled possessively as Jean-Luc's lips parted.

 

Reluctantly, Jean-Luc pulled back. "Dis isn't de right time," he warned.

 

"Remy," Logan reminded him. "We were talkin' 'bout the kid." Oh, he loved throwing Jean-Luc off balance. The man needed to let go of the situation. Ya can't control everythin'! Being the patriarch of the thieves' Guild had taken a large toll on Jean-Luc.

 

"Remy knows how to take care of himself. Sometimes he makes decisions that I question, but dey work for him. If you let him in, and I think Warren's ready to do dat, Remy'll find a way into your heart and never leave again."

 

"Ya think Wings and Remy will work out?" Logan asked sceptically. "Warren's never been interested in guys."

 

"Things change," Jean-Luc remarked absentmindedly. "Would you go to de airport and pick him up? Assassins will be looking out for him." He didn't want to take any risks and Logan struck him as the perfect bodyguard.

 

Logan considered the request. "Okay," he gave in. "I'll make sure his ass gets here in one piece. Are ya gonna tell Remy?"

 

"Non," Jean-Luc whispered. "I don't want him panicking. De direct approach works best most of de time. Mais I want to talk to Warren before allowing him to see Remy." Logan's hand sneaked up his back, massaging a tight knot of muscle underneath his left shoulder blade. "Did you make any progress with Remy? I want dose shackles off as well."

 

"We compromised. I cut through the metal. He can take them off when he feels safe enough. Right now, he still needs them," Logan mumbled and enjoyed seeing the relieved expression in Jean-Luc's eyes. His other hand trailed down Jean-Luc's back and kneaded the Cajun's buttocks. "This job is killin' ya, ya know that, don't ya?"

 

"I've been doing dat job for 80 years, Logan," Jean-Luc admitted, loving the feel of that rough hand moving over his buttocks. It'd been so long since he'd allowed someone to look after him, if only for a few moments.

 

"How long?" Logan's eyes narrowed. "80 years?" Jean-Luc didn't look that old!

 

"A little secret of the Guild," Jean-Luc regretted this slip of the tongue. "I'm over a hundred."

 

"We're two greedy old bastards," Logan whispered pleased. The age difference had worried him a little and Logan felt a lot more comfortable now. Possessively, Logan slipped his hand underneath Jean-Luc's trousers. "They think I'm kinda old too," he admitted and grinned as Jean-Luc arched his hips, offering his lover easy access. Teasingly, his fingers explored Jean-Luc's cleft and hovered over his lover's entrance. Exploring the little pucker with his fingertips, Logan grew aroused. He desperately wanted to bury himself in that tight hot passage, possessing Jean-Luc completely. "Later," Logan promised, voice filled with anticipation.

 

"Later," Jean-Luc agreed. "You're going to try to take me, mon ami?" he asked, looking forward to the fight for dominance, which Logan would probably win. He wanted this to be about equality. It was Logan's turn to establish his dominance.

 

"Yer ass is mine this time," Logan confirmed and wickedly, he inserted the tip of one finger without warning. Jean-Luc quavered and Logan smirked as the Cajun's inner muscle clenched around his finger. "Yer tight, Cajun. I'll love fuckin' that ass."

 

"Merde!" Jean-Luc's voice was ragged, filled with longing. He'd never expected Logan to take the lead now. Concentrating on the invasive feeling inside his ass, his knees almost gave out on him. It felt incredibly intimate. Oui, he can overpower me, take me, possess me… No one had ever managed to best him and secretly he longed for it to happen. How would it feel to have Logan's cock inside him? To submit completely?

 

A knock on the door killed the mood. "Monsieur LeBeau? Car's ready."

 

Logan's enjoyed the power he had over Jean-Luc and his finger probed deeper. Jean-Luc's moan turned Logan even more on. "Go ahead, tell him."

 

"Monsieur Logan will be with you in…" Jean-Luc's cock was now fully erect and his body ached with lust, as Logan's finger stroked his prostate with one knowing motion. "In a second…" Mon Dieu, he's staking his claim!

 

Logan grinned maliciously. In painfully slow motion he began to withdraw his finger from the Cajun's trembling body, massaging the tight ring of muscle on his way out. Oh, he wished he were already back from the airport so he could fuck the Cajun like Jean-Luc had fucked him! "Straighten out yer clothes," he whispered wickedly, smelling the tension and arousal on Jean-Luc's body. "I'll be back soon and ya better be ready for me!"

 

Jean-Luc watched Logan leave the room. Merde! What had happened just know? Maybe he wanted this more than he'd ever thought possible. It was tempting to let got so Logan could take the lead, but submission was something that went against his every instinct. Luckily, he had time to think this over before Logan would try to claim him.

 

///

 

Nervously, Warren shuffled his feet. Jean-Luc had just called him, telling him that Logan was on his way to pick him up. He didn't like this development, as . Logan was unpleasant company. Too smug and too damn arrogant! As he paced the waiting area, he wondered what to say to Jean-Luc. He was too scared to think of what apology to offer Remy, so he didn't even think about that one. He'd have to convince Jean-Luc of his honest intentions first. If the patriarch didn't believe him, Jean-Luc would never allow him to talk to Remy! But maybe it was a good sign that Jean-Luc had agreed to talk to him in the first place. The patriarch had sounded tired and tense and Warren's concern for Remy grew. Was Remy remembering the painful things? "And I just ran out of him!"

 

"Ya got that one right," Logan said surprised. He had never seen Warren this worried! It was obvious that Worthington felt edgy and the man smelled of fear.

 

"Don't start with me! I'm not in the mood!" Warren sneered, angry that he hadn't picked up on Logan approaching him. "If you want to gloat, do it in silence, but get off my back!"

 

"Woa, kid, calm down," Logan whispered surprised. Why was Warren this defensive?

 

"I want to see Remy," Warren stated resolved, picked up his briefcase and gestured Logan to start walking. "And I want to see him now!"

 

Logan decided not to get into an argument here, where everyone could overhear them. He walked Warren to the car and once inside, he told the driver to start the engine. Now that they were alone, he wanted some answers. "Why are ya back?"

 

Warren's head snapped back. He'd expected the tirade. "None of your business!"

 

"Don't be mad at me, kid. I didn't do anythin' wrong." Logan studied Warren. "Yer pissed off at yerself."

 

Warren didn't know what to do. When he'd left Westchester everything had been so simple and clear. He was going to claim Remy and start building a relationship, but the closer he got to the young Cajun, the more doubts surfaced. All he could do was hang onto Bobby's advice; to not run at the first sight of trouble. If he wanted Remy, he had to fight!

 

"So what's the deal? Yer here to hurt the Cajun 'gain?" Logan wasn't sure what to make of Warren's behaviour. "I mean, the kid's got a crush on ya. Ya shouldn't play him."

 

"I'm not playing him!" Warren hissed angered. "And I don't have to explain a thing to you!"

 

"But ya'll have to explain it to Jean-Luc," he reminded Warren. "What do ya plan on tellin' him? Ya bailed out once…"

 

Stubbornly, Warren crossed his arms in front of his chest. "This is none of your business, Wolverine."

 

Exasperated, Logan leaned back and gave up. "I don't know what's goin' on in that thick skull of yers, Wings, but I ain't the enemy here. Ya might hate my guts, but we're still team-mates."

 

Warren peeked at Logan's eyes, surprised at the lack of hostility. If someone was being hostile then it was him. "I'm just confused as hell," he offered as apology.

 

"Because ya suddenly have feelings for a guy?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "Must admit that surprised me. "

 

"Freaked me out for a while." Warren admitted, calming down a little. "So how is Remy?" he asked softly. "Any better?"

 

"Remy remembered the Marauders and the Morlocks. Remembering the Massacre was hard on him."

 

"Is he eating again? Taking his meds?" Finally, Warren made full eye contact with Logan. "Anything else?"

 

"He's been askin' 'bout ya," Warren said reluctantly. "Wanted to know if ya'd called." Logan considered his next words very carefully. "Kid's in love with ya."

 

"I know that," Warren admitted softly and couldn't help blushing slightly. "Took me some time to realize that I feel the same way. I mean, I hated him."

 

"Ya did?" Logan nodded his head. "Ever wondered if this is the reason why ya always picked on him?"

 

Warren eyed him questioningly. "Care to explain that?"

 

"Maybe ya felt like this from the beginning, but never admitted it? Repressed it and blamed him for feelin' that way?" Logan shrugged his shoulders. "I'm no shrink, but I got this feelin'."

 

"Honestly, I don't know," Warren whispered as the car came to a stop.

 

"We're home," the driver announced and parked the car.

 

"This is it," Warren whispered privately as he got out. Looking at Logan he asked, "Do you think Jean-Luc will let me see Remy?"

 

"Ya got a good chance," Logan grumbled. "Don't fuck up again."

 

///

 

The nervous expression on Warren's face definitely pleased Jean-Luc. It spoke in Warren's favour that he was back this soon, that he'd reached this decision so quickly. But Jean-Luc wasn't going to make this easy on Worthington. He wanted to make sure Remy wouldn't be hurt a second time. "Why did you come back?" Jean-Luc asked and lit a cigar. Seeing Logan's sudden hungry look, he threw the Canadian a cigar. Looked like this was another thing they had in common!

 

Warren cleared his throat. "I kept thinking about Remy."

 

Jean-Luc licked his lips and blew a dark cloud of smoke into the room. "Dat's no reason to come back."

 

Logan enjoyed inhaling the smoke deeply before letting it float from his lungs. He definitely loved his healing factor! Warren was squirming and Logan didn't feel any pity for the former playboy. It was obvious Warren desperately wanted to see Remy, but first Warren had to pay the prize for deserting Remy.

 

"All right then!" Warren hissed and then his tone softened, knowing he was paying the prize for leaving Remy earlier. "I'm in love with him!" Surprised, he realized how good it felt to say that. "I love Remy."

 

Jean-Luc and Logan exchanged a glance. "What do you plan to do about dat?" Jean-Luc inquired, ignoring Logan. It was obvious that Logan wanted him to allow Warren to talk to Remy. But Jean-Luc wasn't satisfied yet.

 

"I thought about that last night," Warren revealed, relaxing a little. "I know he can't stay here… the assassins…"

 

"True," Jean-Luc said curiously.

 

"He needs a break. Hell, we both deserve one!" Pleadingly, Warren looked into Jean-Luc's eyes, not hiding a thing. He wanted this man to know how deeply he cared about Remy. "I own this house in Ireland. It would do both of us good to get away from the X-Men and New Orleans." Suddenly, he started pacing the study. "I want to get to know him, see if we work out. I'm willing to…" Briefly, he faltered, remembering Bobby's words, "I'm willing to commit myself to him."

 

Logan's eyes sparkled. It was the first time ever he'd seen this side to Warren. "What 'bout Bets?"

 

"We're no longer together, Logan. We called it quits months ago." Warren concentrated on Jean-Luc, knowing the man wasn't convinced yet. "I know I'm a coward and a bastard for walking out on Remy when he needed me, but I had to come to terms with the fact that I'm in love with a man! That never happened to me before. I needed time to understand what was happening."

 

Jean-Luc dropped the ashes of his cigar into an ashtray and studied Warren. "What guarantee do I have dat you won't run out on him again? Remy's going through a rough time and he needs stability. Can you handle being in love with him?"

 

"I can. Now, I can. I talked to a friend of mine and I… I realized that I don't want to lose Remy. I want to take his pain away and…"

 

"Bien," Jean-Luc cut him off and raised one hand. "Listen. If Remy still wants you, he'll have you. His happiness comes first. If Remy agrees to going to Ireland with you, he can go. If I hear you hurt him on purpose again, my thieves will find you." Slowly, he rose from behind the desk. "Remy's precious to me and I won't allow you to hurt him. If you do, you'll answer to me! Is dat understood?"

 

Not backing away from the glare, Warren straightened his shoulders and returned the stare. "I understand."

 

Logan finished his cigar and amused, watched the exchange. Wings had greatly surprised him. "What if Bets wants ya back?"

 

Warren turned around to face him. "Bets can go to hell. I want Remy."

 

Jean-Luc smiled approvingly behind Warren's back. "Go to Remy and tell him, but his decision counts. If he wants you, I'll allow it. If he tells you to leave, I'll make sure you leave N'awlins forever."

 

Warren moved over to the doorway. "Does he know I'm here?"

 

"Nope," Logan replied and joined Jean-Luc to claim another cigar. "And I suggest ya give him time to work through this. Last thing he expects is for ya to show up 'gain."

 

"I'll arrange for a flight to Ireland," Jean-Luc offered, knowing how damn important it was that Remy left New Orleans. The assassins' threats were getting more vicious with every passing hour.

 

"Monsieur LeBeau?" Warren said and locked eyes with Jean-Luc. "Please give me a chance here. This is new to me, but I love him…"

 

"Go and talk to my son," Jean-Luc replied pleased. "We all make mistakes," he whispered after Warren had left the room, "but de important thing is dat we learn from dem."

 

///

 

"Okay, old boy. Take a deep breath." Warren didn't have a clue what to say to Remy, or how to apologize and declare his love. Hopefully the words would come easily once he was inside. "Please forgive me, Remy," he said, rehearsing probably the most important words in his life. Resolved, he knocked on the door.

 

"Oui?" Remy looked up from the book he was reading. He knew better than to try and leave his room. Poppa had ways to make him feel guilty like hell. And even more importantly, doctor Mansour had just been here to check on him. The physician had urged him to stay in bed, as the wound wasn't healing as quickly as it should.

 

"Oui? Come 'side?" He wondered who it would this time. Poppa or Logan? The two men seemed to have developed a routine, checking on him at least once an hour. Oui, poppa trusted him, but poppa also knew he tended to overestimate his strength and go for short walks instead. As the door didn't open, Remy grew worried. Had one of the assassins found his way inside? It was a good thing that he always kept the prototype of his Bo-staff near the bed. It couldn't hurt to be too careful.

 

Angered by his own cowardice, Warren finally opened the door and stepped inside, uncertain what to say. His eyes immediately found the Cajun's and the disbelief in them stunned Warren. Logan had been right. Remy had never expected him to return.

 

"Warren?" Shocked, the book he was reading fell from his hands and onto the floor. Had his poppa fed him the sedative after all? He had to be hallucinating! It was the only explanation!

 

"Remy," Warren whispered the name and his heart suddenly picked up speed, pounding madly. "You look better," Warren said relieved. Although the dark circles under Remy's eyes had only slightly lessened, he took comfort in the fact that the Cajun had gained a little weight. The cut on his brow had healed, leaving a scar.

 

Unable to believe that Warren really stood in his room, Remy simply stared at him. Speechless, his eyes begged for an explanation. He had to say something, but… "You're here to take me up on dat dinner invitation?" Mon Dieu, it sounded stupid! Remy tried to regulate his erratic breathing. He'd hoped his angel would return but…

 

"Remy? Can we talk?" Slowly, Warren made his way over to the bed. He waited for Remy's answer before sitting down.

 

"Mais oui, glad you’re back," Remy whispered awkwardly. The hooded expression in Warren's eyes made him tremble. "How's de wound? Your wing?" It didn't matter how long this visit would last, he'd savour every second of it! His hands twisted in his lap, eager to reach out and curl around Warren's, but he stopped himself. Quickly, Remy pulled up the comforter and pushed his hands underneath his buttocks. He couldn't make the mistake of touching Warren now. He might never want to let go again!

 

"I'm fine, Remy. How's your side?" Briefly, his eyes darkened at the realization that Remy had been willing to die for him. Bets would never had saved his ass like that. I've been so stupid!

 

"De doctor says it'll be fine once I stop movin' 'bout so much," Remy admitted in a guilty tone. "Only went to de badroom!"

 

Warren smiled weakly, hearing that particular tone. Damn! I should have stayed here to take care of him! Instead, I ran! He shifted on the side of the bed, moving a little closer. "Then stop moving about, Remy." The affection in his tone surprised Warren and he knew he had to make his admission quickly.

 

Remy's smile brightened. "Merci for carin', ange."

 

Hearing that little nickname got to Warren. Even after deserting Remy, the Cajun still called him ange. "Remy, I owe you one big, fat apology." Remy raised an eyebrow and Warren realized that the Cajun had no idea what he was talking about. Remy probably convinced himself that I don't care and I can't blame him!

 

"What for? No apology is neces…" Remy shut up, seeing Warren's glare. Whatever Warren had to say was important to the man.

 

"I chickened out," Warren rubbed his brow. "I simply ran when things got complicated, leaving you to deal with everything on your own. I'm so sorry I did that. Please forgive me, Remy." Warren avoided Remy's eyes, waiting for the anger at being abandoned to surface. He'd really messed up big time!

 

"Mais, ange. It's bien, don' worry 'bout it." Remy's right hand sneaked on top of the comforter and rubbed Warren's fingers. Remy never realized he was doing it. "De assassins want to kill you. You had to leave. I understand." It meant so much to him that Warren was back but… "You should have stayed 'way, mon ami. Assassins don' give up easy." His heart missed a beat, realizing the danger Warren was in. "You need to leave N'Awlings, ange."

 

Warren stared at Remy's fingers, which rested on his hand. Unfamiliar with such intimate contact, he slightly pulled back. "I'm not leaving without you," he stated resolved, fearing for Remy's reaction. The pain in his heart increased, as he realized that Remy didn't blame him for walking away. The Cajun forgave him and that infuriated Warren. Why wasn't Remy mad at him? Yelling and telling him to leave?

 

Bewildered, Remy shook his head. "Funny, t'ought de effect of de meds had worn off… now I'm hearin' t'ings…Sorry, what did you say, ange?" Next time, poppa wouldn't talk him into taking his meds that easily! He had woken up this morning, hadn't he? So that ruled out that this was a dream!

 

"I said," Warren repeated, this time with some amusement in his tone, "That I'm only leaving the city if you're coming with me, Remy."

 

"You sure? I babble all de time… fall 'sleep at de most crazy times and…" Suddenly, Remy stopped talking. "Why are you laughing?"

 

"Did it ever occur to you to say no to me?" Warren quipped, relieved that this talk was going so well. He'd been seriously worried that Remy would refuse to talk to him. But he was still a coward, not touching on his feelings for the Cajun.

 

"Non!" Remy replied teasingly and suddenly grew aware of Warren's fingers twined with his. Merde! When had he reached out to Warren? And come to think of it, why was Warren returning the caress? "Ange?"

 

"There's something else I need to tell you, something important." Warren firmly clasped his fingers around Remy's. "I'm the biggest asshole in the world for walking out on you. No! Listen!" he cut Remy short, as the Cajun wanted to protest. "Listen!"

 

For once, Remy gave in, wondering what had gotten into Warren. Why was the man so serious?

 

"The reason I came back is because I can't stop thinking about you." Remy's big eyes made Warren smile. "Every time I close my eyes, I see your face. Every time I fall asleep, I see your eyes. I want you close, Remy."

 

"Why?" Remy's voice trembled audibly. He never got lucky, so why would this time be any different? "Because you feel guilty for dat knife incident? I made de decision to jump in dere…" Again, Warren silenced him with a glance, incredibly soft and -for the first Remy could finally admit it- unbelievably sexy.

 

"No, I want you with me for a different reason." Warren knew he was stalling, but suddenly he was lost for words. How did you declare your love for another man? Bobby would probably chide him, telling him to follow his instincts.

 

"Ange?" Remy smiled, entranced by the possibilities, yet still too afraid to hope.

 

"You want to know why I deserted you?" Warren asked in a trembling tone, meeting Remy's eyes. God, they're so expressive! It's like I can read his every desire, hope or fear in them! How could he ever have thought of them as devil's eyes? He had, when he'd first met Remy LeBeau.

 

"Oui, why did you go 'way?" Remy tried pulling back his hand, wondering if his closeness made Warren nervous, but Warren shook his head, stopping Remy's retreat. Soft fingers caressed his and made him go weak. "Ange?"

 

"I ran because I have feelings for you," Warren said after taking a deep breath. He was doing okay, now he had to get the rest out. "I ran because I've never been in love with a man before and you… you scare me."

 

"Scare you?" Remy's heart beat in a mad rhythm. Had Warren just confessed to being in love with him? How could that be?

 

"Yes, you scare me." There, he'd said it. "You're so… damn passionate and forgiving! First, I fly off the handle because you saved me from the sniper and then… damn, you nursed me back to health, took care of my wing and all that while you were scared."

 

"Ange?" Lost, Remy held onto Warren's hand.

 

"You remember Bobby Drake? Ice Cube?" Warren smiled fondly, hoping so badly that Remy did remember Drake.

 

"Oui, I think I do," Remy admitted.

 

"He kicked my sorry butt back to New Orleans. Told me not to throw your love away and… here I am." Nervously, Warren waited for Remy's reply.

 

But Remy was still trying to work this out. Except for poppa and tante no one had ever told him that they loved him. Warren coming back and making this confession seemed like an episode from the Twilight Zone, which he used to watch. "You love me?"

 

"I'm in love with you, Remy and I want to take you to a safe place. New Orleans is too dangerous for both of us. Your father promised to help us get to Ireland in one piece… if you'll have me." Warren looked at their intertwined fingers. It still felt odd. He wasn't used to touching people. His father had always made sure that there had been a proper, formal distance between them. "The question is, Remy, do you want me?" Asking that question frightened Warren. What if Remy told him to go to hell? "I'm not entitled to a second chance, I know that, Remy. But please… I really want to make this work." Truthfully, Warren couldn't imagine a life without the Cajun, not now Remy was this close, reminding him of what he'd callously threw away days ago. "If you tell me no, I'll leave and never bother you again," Warren promised defeated. Remy's silence worried him. That was a bad sign! Warren forced himself to be quiet. Jean-Luc had been right. Remy had to decide what would happen next!

 

Remy's mind spun and he had trouble focusing on Warren, who'd bowed his head. During all these drugged night, he'd dreamed that Warren was sitting at his bed, holding his hand like he did now. Telling Remy, how much Warren loved him. Now that it was happening, Remy couldn't believe it.

 

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Warren asked, "Can you give me a second chance, Rem?"

 

Rem… he called me dat durin' de nightmares! His eyes searched Warren's and he only encountered truth and affection. Warren Worthington the Third was speaking the truth!

 

"I had a dream once… about you," Warren started, now really concerned that Remy was spacing out on him. "You asked me if I could love you and the answer is yes. You'll have to be patient with me, though. Remy?" Scared shitless of being rejected Warren leaned in closer to study Remy's eyes. "Please talk to me."

 

"Ireland?" Remy mumbled in disbelief. "You want to go to Ireland?"

 

Relieved, Warren nodded his head. "I own a small cottage there. Nothing fancy. No castle or manor, but… I'd love to live there with you, help you heal, get to know you." He'd said all that could make a difference.

 

Remy cocked his head. "Do you love me? Really love me? You know 'bout de… Antiquary… what he did to me…" Speaking the name wasn't as hard as it used to be, but the old pain was still there. Thanks to that vile bastard he'd always feel tainted, inferior… not complete.

 

"Yes, I know. How could I not?" Warren's tone softened seeing the anguish on Remy's face. "I held you during that first nightmare… You begged me not to touch you. Didn't take me long to figure things out."

 

"And you still want me?" Remy asked to make sure. "Don' get me wrong, I'm flattered dat you'd want me, mais you don' strike me as a man who…"

 

"What?" Warren sneaked a little closer. Their bodies didn't touch, but he wanted to see every emotion in those eyes.

 

Remy pushed back into the pillows, which supported his body now that he was sitting up. "I ain' an easy person to be 'round, ange. I'm trouble."

 

"I already told you that I'm trouble too," Warren said, feeling hopeful. At least Remy wasn't rejecting him. Clinging to their joined hands he said, "Will you give me a chance to make you happy? Oh, I'll screw up things, but hopefully…"

 

This time it was Remy who silenced Warren. "Ireland? Never been dere."

 

"I take it that's yes, oui?" Warren added teasingly, immensely relieved. "I was so afraid I'd fuck up again, Remy and that you wouldn't give me that chance. God knows that I don't deserve it."

 

"I can' understand why you'd want me as your lover," Remy admitted. "You could do so much better, ange, mais if dis is what you want, I'd be a fool not to take you up on de offer." Remy wasn't sure why he'd just accepted Warren as his new love, but it was a hell of a lot better than being alone!

 

Warren read some of Remy's fear in his eyes. "You're not the only one who's nervous about this," he assured the Cajun. Unexpectedly, Remy's fingers tightened around his in reassurance. "But I want this to work, Rem."

 

"Cher," Remy whispered hesitantly. "Will try and make you happy."

 

Warren smiled, amazed at Remy's reaction. He really wanted to kiss those lips, but couldn't. They belonged to a man and he still wasn't comfortable with that. No matter what Bobby had said, he needed time to convince himself that this was right. So he rubbed Remy's fingers instead. "Think you can leave this afternoon? Your father mentioned that the assassins are pressuring him to take action."

 

"Oui, doctor just renewed de bandage… only need to get dressed and…"

 

"Woa, wait, Cajun," Warren said in an oddly fond tone. "Changed your bandages? You’re still confined to bed then?"

 

"Oui, but don' worry. I can take care of myself just fine."

 

"I don't doubt that," Warren whispered softly. "But I want to make sure we take your meds, bandages and other stuff you might need with us. I'll ask your dad to…"

 

"Ange?" Remy brought their joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of Warren's hand. "Please, just sit wid me for a while until I can believe you're real?"

 

Those luscious lips burned Warren's skin. It was such a simple gesture, yet filled with passionate affection. "Sure," Warren whispered in a hoarse tone. "I'll sit with you."

 

Remy closed his eyes, placing their hands over his heart. "Can' believe dis."

 

"You better do!" Warren whispered in an oddly emotional tone. "I'm here and won't leave. Why don't you get some rest? You look like you haven't slept that great lately," he suggested and tucked his love in. My love, Warren thought pleased. It had been Bobby who'd first referred to Remy as his love and now… It seemed so improper to call Remy that, the Cajun being a man, but… maybe one day he'd be able to take that step. "Sleep, crazy Cajun."

 

Remy caught the affectionate tone and smiled. "Not plannin' on sleepin', ange. Not as long as you're here… want to listen to you breathin', feel your pulse underneat' my fingertips." But against his will his body relaxed and Remy dozed off, never completely falling asleep, but resting nonetheless.

 

///

 

"Ya knew Warren would be back!" Logan realized suddenly as they walked into Jean-Luc's private rooms. "Ya bastard, ya! Ya counted on him comin' back to New Orleans!"

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc grinned. "Warren needed time to accept dis." His tone grew serious again. "You should have seen de way Warren acted when Remy took dat dagger for him. He refused to let me hold my son, raving dat Remy couldn't die, dat he wouldn't allow it. It was pretty clear to me what was going on. Mais I hoped dat Warren wouldn't run and accept it instead." Tired, he massaged his brow. It'd been a long day.

 

"Yer confident they'll work out?" Logan asked questioningly. They'd passed Remy's room as they'd made their way here and only soft noises had emerged from the room, which had assured them everything was fine.

 

"Oui, I'm sure. It'll take dem a while to figure deir new relationship out, mais… when Remy loves, he loves unconditionally. Dey'll also have to deal with de physical aspect. Right now, every boundary Remy has ever set, all his defense mechanisms are down. I'll talk to Warren before dey leave. Maybe I can offer him some advice." Jean-Luc released a deep sigh. "I'm tired," he admitted. "Mais all dere's left to do is to get dem to de airport in one piece. Assassins are hard to control and will try to kill dem no matter what dey promise."

 

"Why don't ya get some sleep?" Logan suggested and wrapped an arm around the Cajun's waist, understanding Jean-Luc's fears. He worried about Remy as well. There was only one difference. "Kid's strong 'nough to find a way to deal with this shit. He's a survivor. " Suddenly, dominating his new lover wasn't that important any more. Offering comfort was. "We can play later."

 

"Play?" Jean-Luc chuckled, relieved that Logan understood. "Mais you're right. I could do with a nap."

 

Logan grinned. "And maybe a massage will ease that tension in yer shoulders?" He'd love to work on that tense body, work on tight knots and strained muscles. "Just wanna make ya feel good, Cajun."

 

"Are you offering?" Jean-Luc asked relieved. Oui, he needed rest. The prospect of Logan giving him a thorough massage made his shoulders slump forward. He was too tired to keep up the pretence.

 

Taken aback by the sudden fatigue in Jean-Luc's eyes Logan brushed the Cajun's lips. "Yeah, I'm offerin'." Logan nodded his head as he led his new lover to bed. "Don't worry 'bout the kids. If something goes wrong, I'll tell ya." His hearing was finely tuned. Right now, Remy and Warren weren't talking and their heartbeats had settled down. "They're okay," Logan reassured Jean-Luc. "Give them some space, Cajun."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head and dropped face forward on his bed. Sometimes, he felt so damn out of control!

 

"Lemme take care of ya, Cajun. I know yer used to callin' the shots, but ya can't be on top of the game all the time," Logan mumbled. Yeah, he understood Jean-Luc, understood Jean-Luc's ingrained instincts to not let go. "Just this once, Cajun, lemme be here for ya."

 

"Sounds tempting," Jean-Luc admitted sleepily. He didn't react when one claw slipped beneath his shirt, cutting it in two. Logan would never injure him.

 

Logan stripped off Jean-Luc's shirt. He planned on taking his time with the Cajun. "Ya need a break from life, darlin'."

 

Strong hands rubbed soothingly over his back and Jean-Luc rested his head on his hands as Logan straddled his lower back. "Massage oil is in de drawer," Jean-Luc informed his lover. "Sometimes my bones remember how old dey are… My knee has got the habit of…"

 

"Shst, just relax, Cajun," Logan whispered soothingly, finding the small bottle. He poured a generous amount onto his hands, warming the liquid before allowing it to come into contact with Jean-Luc's skin. "Gonna take care of ya," he promised again. "Ya can trust me, Cajun."

 

"I know I can… otherwise you wouldn't even be here," Jean-Luc whispered blissfully as Logan's hands kneaded a tight knot of muscles beneath his shoulder blade. The way Logan reacted to his unspoken needs was quite a surprise to Jean-Luc and suddenly he wondered if this could be more than just sexual attraction. Mon Dieu, I am too old to get seriously involved.

 

"I said, relax!" Logan whispered into Jean-Luc's ear as he leaned in closer. "Yer even worse than me!"

 

"Assassins can be planning an attack right now," Jean-Luc pointed out to him. "What am I doing here? I should be…"

 

"Cut it out, Cajun!" Logan grabbed Jean-Luc's wrists as the Cajun tried to get to his feet. "Ya need some down time, darlin'."

 

"Logan, you don't understand!" Jean-Luc cursed, realizing Logan was too heavy for him to throw off.

 

"I understand that we're safe in yer house…"

 

"Oui, mais…."

 

"Stop it." Logan bent forward and roughly kissed the back of Jean-Luc's neck. "I won't let ya go."

 

"Why?" Jean-Luc stopped resisting, knowing it would be futile.

 

"Because ya need… this," and he softly bit the Cajun's neck. "Ya need to relax."

 

"Mon Dieu," Jean-Luc panted, suddenly realizing that he was lying on his stomach, with Logan on top of him. It was the perfect position for Logan to take him. How had he gotten into this position? De massage…

 

"It's okay, Cajun. Ya can let go now. I'll prove it to ya, want me to?" Jean-Luc's body twitched beneath his. "Tell me to back off and I will." But in his heart Logan hoped that Jean-Luc could let go for just a moment. "Responsibilities are killin' ya, Cajun."

 

It was true. Jean-Luc could finally admit that 80 years of trying to keep the Guild together had taken their toll on him. Maybe he really wanted to let go. "What do you want to do?"

 

"First, we'll make sure this is no misunderstandin'," Logan whispered, releasing the Cajun's wrists and returning to the massage. "You need a good fuck, darlin' and ya know it."

 

Jean-Luc shivered, hearing it phrased like that. "Never let anyone do dat," Jean-Luc admitted nervously. He'd never allowed another man to take him.

 

"Figures." Logan wasn't surprised at all. "Ya've got to trust me, Cajun. Trust me to look after ya. I'll call the shots, with yer best interest in mind, but ya'll have to let go. Ya won't be able to control this." Logan was already painfully hard. The prospect of burying himself in Jean-Luc body made his cock throb with want.

 

It was a frightening concept and that was why Jean-Luc had to do it. He'd always taught Remy to face his fears and this time it was his turn. "Condom and lube," he whispered, setting his boundaries.

 

"We don't need condoms, darlin'," Logan said softly, finally kneading some tension out of the Cajun's back. "My healin' factor will take care of that. I won't give ya any STD's. And I wanna feel ya, so no barriers. We're gonna to need lube though to prepare ya. Ya got any?"

 

"I'm not sure," Jean-Luc raised his head and looked at his lover. "Mebbe."

 

"When was the last time ya… Damn ya, Cajun!" Logan choked up, reading the truth in his eyes. "That long?"

 

"Fifteen years… since I last had a lover…" Jean-Luc admitted. "De Guild…"

 

"Ya need to get a life." Logan got to his feet and looked about.

 

"De bathroom… medicine cabinet," Jean-Luc said, realizing Logan was searching for lube.

 

Logan disappeared into the bathroom, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Somehow it hurt, knowing that this gorgeous man had destroyed his personal life because of the Guild. He picked up towels and the lube and returned to the bedroom. "Ya found them in Remy's room huh?" he realized, knowing with certainty that Jean-Luc would never buy them for personal use. "Fifteen years… " Logan whispered. "Shit."

 

Logan stared at the thief, who lay naked on the bed. Clothes were neatly draped over the chair. Logan wondered about the change in attitude. Only yesterday Jean-Luc had been all over him, fucking him senseless. Now, the Cajun seemed shy. Logan threw the lube on the bed and realized that Jean-Luc hadn't moved. The Cajun was still on his stomach, waiting for him to make a move.

 

Jean-Luc felt oddly nervous now that he'd agreed to Logan taking the lead. But somehow it thrilled him, knowing that for once he could be weak.

 

"Ya've got a great piece of ass."

 

Strangely enough the compliment pleased him. Jean-Luc watched the Canadian. It felt odd to lie here naked, while Logan was still fully clothed. "Are you going to take off dose clothes?"

 

"In a moment, Cajun. No need to hurry. Clothes on skin have a certain feel too." Logan kneeled on the bed, taking in the gorgeous man in front of him. "Ya want to go all the way?" He wanted Jean-Luc's explicit permission first.

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Don't know why, mais I trust you." But it still scared him, surrendering like this. "What do you have in mind, Logan?"

 

"First off, stop talkin'. Ya can't control me that way. Just accept what I am offerin'." Slowly, Logan moved closer to the thief. He cocked his head to study Jean-Luc's dilated pupils. "I want ya to go insane with pleasure," he whispered and kissed Jean-Luc's neck.

 

Jean-Luc quavered, as the fabric of Logan's shirt rubbed against his bare skin. His nipples immediately turned erect and a slow pounding started in his groin.

 

"Turn on to yer back," Logan instructed. Jean-Luc obeyed and Logan straddled his partner's hips. Logan's lips and tongue trailed down to his lover's collarbone. "That's it. Just relax, Cajun."

 

Jean-Luc's hands turned into fists; otherwise he'd try to throw Logan off. But he'd consented to Logan being the dominant one and he couldn't change the rules of the game now. Logan spread his legs, opening him up and Jean-Luc hissed his surprise. He'd never before felt so completely vulnerable.

 

"Don't," Logan admonished him. "Lemme take care of yer needs. I know how hard this on ya," he reassured the trembling thief. He'd planned to take Jean-Luc hard and deep, but now… things had changed. This is no longer 'bout fuckin', Logan realized. It's more.

 

Quickly, Logan removed his shirt and slapped Jean-Luc's hands away as the Cajun tried to unzip Logan's trousers. "Don't make me tie you down. Would be a little too much for yer first time," Logan whispered teasingly. The image of Jean-Luc tied down and willing made Logan pant.

 

"Mon Dieu," Jean-Luc moaned, as Logan rolled his nipples between his callused fingertips. Involuntarily, Jean-Luc arched his back in invitation.

 

"Easy, Cajun," Logan said reassuringly. "I know what ya want… Lemme set the pace." His hands roamed the Cajun's agile body, pinching an erect nipple hard. Finally, Logan gave in and his fingers trailed down to the dark pubic hair. "Yer big," Logan whispered approvingly and remembered that he'd taken Jean-Luc's length yesterday.

 

"Please?" Jean-Luc whispered. There was too much heat in his body and Logan hardly touched him! Shamelessly, Jean-Luc rubbed his cock against the denim of Logan's jeans.

 

"So soon?" Logan teased and allowed his fingers to curl around his lover's erect shaft, which dripped with pre-ejaculate. "We might not need lube after all!"

 

"Lube… "Jean-Luc repeated deliriously. He wouldn't allow Logan to take him without it. Although he was wild with lust, he realized that Logan could do serious damage without using lubrication.

 

"I know, darlin'. I'm just teasin' ya!" Slowly, Logan stroked his lover's cock, massaging the heavy sac and inhaling his scent. Then he remembered something from their first time together. Jean-Luc had loved to talk dirty, so maybe…"Ya like this? Me fistin' ya? Touchin' ya? Are ya ready for me to fuck ya?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc whispered abandoned. It was hard to believe he was letting Logan do this. The slow strokes were driving him mad. He wanted more, faster, harder, but then… a slick finger teased against his cleft, touching his entrance and Jean-Luc couldn't help but open his legs in invitation.

 

Logan grinned and covered his fingers with his lover's pre-ejaculate. Slowly, he fisted Jean-Luc's cock, denying him what the Cajun wanted most, release. Leaning in closer, he claimed his lover's lips, bruising them, forcing Jean-Luc to part his teeth and Logan plundered the inside of that delicious mouth.

 

Jean-Luc's body froze as one finger slipped deeper inside, slithery and determined, searching for his prostate. Logan's full weight pressed him down and he moaned his lust into his lover's mouth.

 

"Ya like that?" Logan released bruised lips, trying to arouse his lover even more. "Ya also like talkin' dirty, don't ya?" Pulling back, a second finger joined the first. "Gonna take my time fuckin' ya, Cajun. Yer still a virgin, remember? But soon I'll nail ya to the mattress and posses ya completely." Jean-Luc had prepped him as well and Logan wanted to do the same thing for the Cajun . He didn't want to hurt his lover.

 

Jean-Luc opened his eyes and they locked with Logan's. Giving up control scared him. He could only hope that Logan would stop should Jean-Luc say no..

 

"It's okay, Cajun," Logan said soothingly, this time nibbling on his lover's earlobe. "One more finger and then we'll get busy…" Unnoticed, he unzipped his jeans. His cock bobbed free, fully erect and throbbing.

 

Jean-Luc howled as a third finger opened him up. "Make me come?"

 

"Not yet…" Logan grinned wickedly and crawled down the Cajun's body and then closed his lips around his lover's throbbing cock.

 

Jean-Luc bucked at the sensation, clawing his fingers into the sheet. Merde, this man was driving him insane! Him, the patriarch of the Guild! But right now he didn't care. All he cared about was finding release. The dual stimulation was almost too much. Logan's fingers were stretching him and the Canadian's mouth was around his aching cock.

 

Logan's tongue slithered over the head of his lover's cock and he even scraped his teeth along the slippery shaft. One hand moved to keep Jean-Luc from thrusting too deeply into his mouth. Judging from his lover's breathing, Jean-Luc was close to release. His fingers still slid in and out of the hot trembling hole and he sucked Jean-Luc in the same rhythm.

 

Suddenly, Jean-Luc's world exploded. He released a strangled yelp and shot his come into Logan's hot mouth. But the fingers were still inside him, stroking his prostate. Jean-Luc cried out helplessly.

 

Logan swallowed lover's come, curious to taste it and then let go. Looking at Jean-Luc's face Logan saw a lust filled fever in the Cajun's eyes. Crooking one finger, he increased the pressure on his lover's prostate. Jean-Luc's face contorted and Logan knew it was time to take the next step. "Gonna fuck ya, babe," he whispered and considered their position for a moment. The bed wouldn't do and his eyes came to rest on the desk in the corner of the room.

 

Jean-Luc never noticed that Logan slicked his cock with lube. All Jean-Luc knew were that Logan's fingers were still inside him, and he felt like losing it completely. "Fuck me den… just end dis!" Jean-Luc pleaded, out of his mind.

 

Logan growled possessively. "Damn ya, Cajun. I want ya," Logan whispered, hoping the lube would ease his way in. He had to get inside Jean-Luc's body now!

 

Jean-Luc grabbed onto Logan's arms as his lover suddenly lifted him from the bed. Quickly, he wrapped his legs around Logan's waist, relieved that the pressure on his prostate was momentarily gone. Oh, Logan's fingers were still scissoring inside his passage, but the Canadian didn't have the time to concentrate on stroking his prostate.

 

After carrying his lover over to the desk, Logan quickly cleared it, sweeping all items on to the floor.

 

In his groggy state of mind, Jean-Luc registered that reports were sent flying all over the place. "You're making a mess!"

 

Logan didn't reply, just lay his lover down on the desk. Jean-Luc's legs were still wrapped around his waist and Logan took a moment to savour the sight. Damp hair was plastered to Jean-Luc's face and the Cajun's hands had found a hold on the edge of the desk. "Yer beautiful," he whispered honestly and kissed his lover, while one hand trailed down the Cajun's flat abdomen. "I hope yer ready."

 

"Ready for… " Jean-Luc forgot to breathe when Logan pushed inside, claiming him. He threw his head back and rested it on the desk. One of Logan's hands supported his ass, lifting him a little to change the angle of penetration. "Mon Dieu, you bastard… what are you doing?"

 

"Fuckin' Jean-Luc LeBeau," Logan replied affectionately, thrusting deeply and setting a slow, seductive rhythm.

 

"And not… de patriarch… " Jean-Luc whispered in sudden understanding, finally seeing this gift for what it was. Maybe, he could let go. "Want it hard," he whispered, finally surrendering completely.

 

"I know that," Logan concentrated on their rhythm. Looking down, he growled deeply, as his cock disappeared into his lover's tight passage, time and time again. "Yer a good fuck. The best I ever had. Ya got such a tight little ass…" he whispered, knowing how much Jean-Luc loved to hear this. "But yer too good. Gonna come inside ya every moment now. How does that feel? Knowin' I'm gonna pump you full with come?" One of his claws caressed Jean-Luc's nipples.

 

Jean-Luc shivered, as that deadly claw hovered over his nipples. Logan's balls slapped hard against his ass. He refused to close his eyes and sought out Logan's instead. The feral expression in them made him breathless. Logan's thrusts pushed him over the table, rubbing his back and buttocks against the wood of the desk. Merde, this felt so good!

 

"Here I come!" Logan exclaimed and leaned in closer to bury his teeth in Jean-Luc's neck, drawing blood. With one more firm thrust he reached orgasm, releasing his come into the Cajun's shaking body.

 

Jean-Luc finally lost it after all, screaming and scratching the desk with his fingernails. Logan was so deep inside him that Jean-Luc could hardly breathe!

 

Logan slumped forward on the Cajun's body, licking the blood he'd drawn. One claw rested on his lover's stomach, caressing the skin there. Damn, he hadn't known how much Jean-Luc turned him on!

 

"Get off," Jean-Luc whispered exhausted, as Logan pressed him down. "Can't breathe."

 

Logan reacted at once, alarmed by the tone in his lover's voice. As he looked at Jean-Luc, Logan froze. Droplets of blood dripped down the Cajun's neck. "I'm gonna pull out." Quickly, Logan withdrew from his lover's body. "Are yer okay? I didn't want to hurt ya, darlin'." A fast inspection showed that the Cajun's legs had cramped up. Logan slipped his arms beneath the shaking body and carried Jean-Luc back to bed. In silence, Logan lay his lover down and then joined him, pulling the comforter over their bodies. "Talk to me, Cajun." Jean-Luc's stare worried Logan. "Are ya still with me?"

 

"Oui," escaped Jean-Luc's lips. Suddenly, nimble fingers massaged his legs, releasing the tension. "Merci," he whispered thankfully.

 

In silence, Logan worked on the legs, until the tension was gone. "Sorry 'bout that, but I love doin' it on a desk."

 

"Logan?" Jean-Luc summoned his strength and pulled the Canadian close to his chest.

 

A little confused, Logan met his lover's eyes. "Shit, I lost control… did I hurt ya?"

 

"I'll be sore for a few days," Jean-Luc realized, "And Remy might give me funny looks because of the way I walk, mais it was worth it." It still baffled him that he'd reacted like that, had given himself so completely to Logan. "It felt good, letting go…"

 

"Shit, I'm really worried that I hurt ya." Logan wasn't satisfied yet and briefly pulled back the covers.

 

"What are you doing, cher? I'm getting cold," Jean-Luc protested softly.

 

"Just a sec," Logan said worried and cleaned his lover up, looking for blood. But all he encountered was semen. Finally reassured, he slipped back underneath the comforter. As he looked at his lover, Logan grinned. "Ya look like yer on drugs!"

 

Jean-Luc returned the grin. "I could get addicted to dis drug." Then, in a quieter tone he added, "Merci for showing me."

 

"What?" Logan tucked his lover's head underneath his chin and stroked Jean-Luc's back with long strokes.

 

"Dat I can let go… dat I can trust you. I know dis isn't part of de deal, mais could you stay a little longer?" Only too soon the real world would come crushing in on him.

 

"Sure, darlin'."

 

And don't call me darling!!" Jean-Luc whispered tired, listening to Logan's heartbeat. "What 'bout Remy and Warren? Can you hear dem?"

 

"Heartbeats are regular… no talking. I guess they’re just enjoying the company… like I am."

 

"Mebbe I'll take dat nap now," Jean-Luc whispered sleepily. "Wake me in 30 minutes? So much to do… book a flight… talk to Warren…"

 

"Go to sleep, Jean-Luc," Logan said affectionately, kissing his eyes close. "Go to sleep."

 

///

 

A soft knock on the door made Warren aware of the complete silence in the room. The only thing audible was their slow breathing. His first glance was for Remy, whose red on black eyes twinkled at him. "Are you okay?"

 

"More dan 'kay," Remy whispered, still in disbelief. "Expected you to be gone when I opened my eyes."

 

That sad admission cut through Warren's heart. "I'm not going to run out on you again. Remy," Warren promised passionately. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

 

Another persistent knock on the door disturbed their comfortable silence.

 

"Oui?" Remy said eventually, realizing that Warren wasn't reacting.

 

"I need to talk to ya, kid," Logan announced and strolled inside, hiding every trace of his passionate lovemaking just an hour ago. Jean-Luc was still asleep in his bed and Logan was resolved to help out. Casting a glance at Warren, Logan grinned. They're holdin' hands!

 

"Want do you want?" Warren said defensively.

 

"Yer takin' the kid to Ireland?" Logan asked to make sure, doubting that Jean-Luc had to book a flight. "Takin' yer own plane?"

 

"Yes," Warren decided to back off, remembering Logan's lack of hostility earlier. "I already called the pilot. We can leave after dark."

 

"I suggest ya move just before sunset. Assassins will be less alert then. I'll take ya to the airport myself." Logan smiled at Remy, pleased with the changed expression in the Cajun's eyes. If Remy's just as passionate as his old man, Warren might realize too late he's in for a wild ride. But Jean-Luc is right. It'll take the kid a long time to get over the Antiquary… but he did it before. He can do it 'gain.

 

Unexpectedly, Remy cleared his throat to voice a request. He knew he had to leave because of the Assassins. Don' want to get poppa into trouble!

 

"What is it?" Warren asked, as Remy's fingers tightened around his.

 

"I want to go to St. Louis Cat'edral first… say adieu to père Etienne."

 

It took Warren a moment to realize whom Remy was talking about. "The priest who helped you? Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, I understand you want to say thanks and stuff, but…" Warren looked to Logan for help. "We should leave the city ASAP. The assassins will make their move soon."

 

"Please?" Remy said in a soft tone. "It's important to me." Maybe it was a subconscious way of testing his new love. "He saved my life."

 

Slowly, it dawned on Warren that he was no longer capable of denying Remy a bloody thing! "Can it be done?" he asked Logan.

 

"Are ya sure? It's risky. They might suspect ya wanna go back."

 

"I'm sure," Warren replied before Remy got a chance to plead again.

 

"I can't make any promises, kid," Logan growled grumpily. He still had some time left to prepare. "So, what's the deal with the two of ya?" He felt rather confident that they'd worked things out. Although he didn't really like Warren, he wanted Remy to be happy.

 

"He loves me," Remy quipped barely audible. "Can you believe dat?" A radiant smile surfaced on his face.

 

Logan fought his grin, but lost the struggle. A dirty, fat grin crawled over his face.

 

Warren's skin turned to goose flesh seeing that grin. Please, don’t embarrass me here! It's hard enough to declare your love to someone you deserted days ago!

 

"Yer goin' to Ireland together then?" Logan loved seeing Warren squirm.

 

"Oui," Remy replied, but then his gaze darkened. "Or did you change your mind?" he asked Warren in a tiny tone.

 

The sudden doubt and fear in Remy's tone worried Warren. "You're coming with me, crazy Cajun!" he declared passionately.

 

Relieved, Remy sighed. "Still can' believe dis," he explained awkwardly.

 

Logan figured this little misunderstanding was his cue to set things in motion. "Wings, Jean-Luc wants to talk to ya 'fore ya leave." He smiled, seeing Remy's disappointed expression. "I'll help ya pack, kid. If ya really want to make a stop at St. Louis cathedral we got to leave earlier."

 

"Help me pack?" Remy mumbled stunned. He'd arrived here with nothing but the clothes on his back!

 

"Jean-Luc wants ya to take some things with ya, kid. Like…" His eyes searched the room and Logan nodded his head, picking up a photograph of Jean-Luc hugging his son. It was the only pic in the room. "Like this one." Personal things would help Remy get over the fact that he'd had to leave New Orleans.

 

Understanding Logan's intentions Remy gave in. "Dere are some t'ings I would like to take wid me," he admitted. Like the notebook he'd been writing in.

 

"Get yer ass into Jean-Luc's study," Logan chided Warren. "The man is waitin' for ya!" He noticed the obvious reluctance with which Warren let go of Remy's hand. Damn, Cajun is right. They might work out! he realized pleased. But he also knew that Warren would have a tough time learning how to deal with Remy's fears. No matter how tough the kid acted, the hurt the Antiquary had inflicted was still tearing Remy apart.

 

"I'll be back in a sec," Warren promised and squeezed Remy's hand one last time before letting go. "We got all the time we need once we're in Ireland."

 

"Lookin' forward to dat," Remy admitted softly, wondering if they'd survive the first days. He'd probably drive Warren mad and Remy wasn't sure their fragile relationship could take such strain. Hell, he wasn't sure about anything anymore!

 

Warren gave Remy an odd look, almost guessing his love's thoughts. He knew this would be hard on both of them. There were some issues he had to work on himself!

 

///

 

"Sit down," Jean-Luc commanded thoughtfully. He wanted a moment in private before hell broke loose when they'd try to smuggle Warren and Remy out of the house. Luckily, he could entrust their safety to his lover. Assassins will try to kill dem! Merde! Remy is so young, he mused saddened, wondering how old Warren was. Even dis one is only a child.

 

"Remy still wants me," Warren said to break the silence. "I apologized, told him why I came back and he agreed to go to Ireland with me. Or are you going to break your word and stop us?" He couldn't wait to leave New Orleans so Remy would be his exclusively. Yes, it was selfish, but he wanted to leave this shit behind and finally focus on healing Remy's emotional scars.

 

"I won't stop you," Jean-Luc said pleased. "Mais if you hurt him." The threat hung unfinished in the room.

 

"I won't." Warren repeated his promise. "But… I'm nervous… scared…" he admitted confused. "I don't know how to… you know… touch him… It's the first time I'm in love with a man and I'm still trying to get used to that idea. I'm not comfortable with touching him yet and then there are the things you told me about the way he was abused…"

 

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about dat," Jean-Luc felt comfortably relaxed thanks to Logan's 'care' Merde, he really knew what I needed! Feel like I'm 20 again, not an old man!

 

"What do you mean?" Confused, Warren locked eyes with Jean-Luc. "You already told me…"

 

Jean-Luc cut him short, knowing their time was limited and he wanted to spend those last precious minutes with his son. "You need to know dis," he said in a heavy tone, not looking forward to sharing this, but now that they'd taken the next step, Warren needed to be aware of Remy's often unusual behavior.

 

"Need to know what?" Warren said questioningly, suddenly seeing the unease in Jean-Luc's eyes. It was the first time that the patriarch seemed nervous. "Is it about Remy?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc leaned forward, trying to catch Warren's eyes. "You need to be careful when… setting dat first step to become intimate."

 

Warren flushed. No way! He can't possibly want to discuss this! After taking a deep breath, Warren asked, "What are you trying to tell me?"

 

"It took Remy years to understand de difference between love and sex." Jean-Luc hoped the young man would understand. This was so important! "You must understand." He got to his feet and walked over to the window, fondly looking at the craters in the garden.

 

Puzzled, Warren waited. Oh shit! This probably has to do with the abuse Remy suffered as a kid!

 

"I told you how Remy behaved when he first came to dis household." Jean-Luc clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face Warren.

 

"Yes, you told me." Warren couldn't help it. Shivers ran down his spine.

 

"I also told you dat he asked me why I hadn't ordered him to pleasure me," Jean-Luc continued in a steady tone.

 

Damn, I hate to discuss this behind Remy's back! Warren cleared his throat. "Yes, you did."

 

Jean-Luc walked over to him and looked into Warren's eyes. "You should know dat Remy came to my room dat night, completely naked and offered himself to me." Rage built in Jean-Luc's voice. "He was 12," he said in obvious sadness.

 

"What?" Warren jumped up from his chair, but Jean-Luc's hands kept him down. "Remy did what?" He couldn't understand why a kid would do such a thing.

 

And Jean-Luc understood that confusion. "Listen, dis is important for both of you." He pushed Warren back in to the chair and sat on his heels. "Remy thought dat I wanted his body in return for food and shelter. He was so scared dat I would throw him back onto de streets dat he reacted de only way he knew, by trying to appease me. De Antiquary…" His voice trailed off. He didn't want to go through this again.

 

"Are you telling me that he might try to pull off the same thing with me once things get rough?" Warren wasn't sure what to make of this admission, but he trembled with anger, much like Jean-Luc was.

 

"Don't rush dis. Take your time to work on de relationship," Jean-Luc advised. "De things, which de Antiquary did to Remy are still very close and very real to Remy. He dealt with it once, oui, but dis time you will have to be dere for him, be his support."

 

"How? How do I do that?" Resolved, Warren looked to Jean-Luc for guidance. "I refuse to mess this up."

 

"Make sure your touch is gentle," Jean-Luc started softly and took a deep breath. "When you're angry with him, don't shut him out or give him de silent treatment. Make sure he knows you disapprove of his actions, but not of him as a person. When you're angry and you feel de need to go for a walk take him with you. You don’t have to talk, just don't give him de feeling that he can't reach you."

 

Warren nodded his head. "My dad did that to me. Shut me out, didn't talk to me for days… I won't do that to Remy."

 

"Try to get him to remove de shackles. Remy's scared. Scared dat de charm will make you hurt him. You'll have to prove your love over and over again." Jean-Luc saw a spark of understanding. Maybe his son had chosen well after all. "One more thing…"

 

"Yes?" Warren shifted in the chair, still uncomfortable with the subject, but he realized he needed all the help he could get in dealing with Remy's fears.

 

"Should you decide to make love…" Amused, Jean-Luc noticed the blush on Warren's face "Be alert."

 

"Why?" Warren slowly realized just how fucking hard this would be on them!

 

"The moment Remy reacts like he's not mentally present during your love making, stop. It's one of his ways to distance himself. He'll offer himself to you, but he won't feel the need for the sexual act himself. Also, if you want to return your pleasure and he refuses, stop. It's an old shame, believing dat he doesn't deserve equal pleasure."

 

"What do I do when that happens?" Warren knew it'd happen. He was realistic enough to know that Remy was still battling his past and that there was no magical cure for childhood abuse. Strange, he'd never thought he'd ever end up with a lover who'd suffered that much. Usually, he avoided even befriending these people!

 

"Hold him. Tell him dat his love and well being is more important to you dan having sex."

 

Warren's blush turned crimson red, hearing Jean-Luc phrase it like that. "I understand that now… that there are more important things in a relationship than sex." Somehow this felt like the father-son talk his own dad had never given him. "How do you know all this stuff?" he asked bewildered.

 

"Because I held Remy when he asked me why his lovers only wanted to have sex and den left. He never realized how much he feels and acts like a victim. He's an easy target."

 

Warren's mouth had gone dry while listening to Jean-Luc. "Can I call you… should we run into such problems?"

 

"Oui, always and take dese with you." Jean-Luc collected a small pile of books that sat on his desk. "Dese helped me gain insight into Remy's way of thinking. De books are about child abuse and ways of healing."

 

"Shit man," Warren mumbled, accepting the books. "You're dead serious about this!"

 

"I am," Jean-Luc confirmed. "I can only hope dat for Remy's sake you won't run away again. I doubt he can deal with you deserting him like dat again. Not after you came back… if it's any consolation," Jean-Luc patted Warren's shoulder, "Remy's given me more joy and love dan anyone else ever has. He'll love you unconditionally."

 

///

 

"Are ye packed?" Logan growled and put the two bags near the door. "Hey, don't ya dare and…" In a heartbeat he was at Remy's side, steadying the Cajun, who'd managed to dress himself. "I'll get ya a coat. Now sit down."

 

Remy grinned as Logan hovered protectively over him. "You're 'most as bad as poppa! I ain' a child!"

 

"Compared to me ya are!" Logan countered and draped a coat over Remy's shoulders. He smelled the slight fever on the young man. "Don't move 'bout too much!" he warned.

 

Remy was tempted to stick out his tongue to taunt Logan, but reconsidered. "Can I talk to poppa before we have to leave?"

 

"Mais oui, petite." Jean-Luc walked into the room. Warren was only a few steps behind him. I scared Warren, he realized, taking in Warren's hooded expression. Bien, now dat he knows de signs he will be alert!

 

Remy's eyes sparkled at the sight of his poppa and love. He'd missed them both.

 

Logan raised an eyebrow, noticing the serious look on Warren's face. He had to admit that Wings had changed a lot during these last few days.

 

"Can I have a moment with my son?" Jean-Luc demanded, his eyes shoeing them from the room.

 

Warren was reluctant to leave, but wanted Jean-Luc and Remy to have this moment together. It'd be hard on Remy to leave his father.

 

"C'mon, kiddo." Logan pulled Warren along, still wondering why Warren's heartbeat was that fast. Something had definitely upset Wings. "What's going on?" he asked the moment the door closed behind him.

 

Warren pointed to a small pile of books on the floor. "He gave me these, along with instructions on how to… " he paused to find the right words, "how to see through Remy's fears and pretence. I never realized it was this bad." Suddenly, he didn't care that Wolverine didn't like him. He just needed someone who'd listen to him. Jean-Luc's talk had freaked him out.

 

"Just listen to the titles," Warren picked up the books and opened them. Angry red marks indicated sections Jean-Luc had found of particular interest. "Be aware of danger," he read and went on to the next title, "The battered child. A home in the streets, street children… or this one… Ghosts in the bedroom! Fuck!" he hissed upset.

 

Logan swallowed hard. "I understand that this freaks ya out, but ya better be prepared. Ya should know what this did to Remy."

 

"I know that," Warren sighed, suddenly feeling terribly calm. "But I'm so mad at the old bastard who did this to him!"

 

"Want me to track him down for ya?" Logan offered. "I wanna word with that monster myself."

 

Warren was indecisive. "I just want this to stop to mess with Remy's head."

 

"I'll take care of it," Logan promised. He'd also some personal questions, which he wanted to ask Jean-Luc about this Antiquary character! "Just hang in there, Wings."

 

"I will," Warren stated resolved. "One way or the other, I… no, Remy and I are going to deal with this!"

 

///

 

Jean-Luc sat down next to Remy and studied his son's body language. Remy seemed comfortable, but also impatient. "I'm so sorry," he offered, hating the fact that the Guild was once more pushing his buttons. Mais not much longer! Once Remy was in safety, he'd make some decisions concerning his life and the Guild!

 

"I understand, poppa." Remy smiled saddened. "Guild always comes first."

 

"NON!" Jean-Luc whispered in dread. "It shouldn't be like dat, son."

 

"I really understand," Remy offered again. "And Warren needs someone to look after him…" he hinted mischievously. "I'll be fine, poppa…"

 

"Don't try and act brave with me, Remy," Jean-Luc chided him, seeing the sadness behind the mask. "I know you too well!"

 

"I'll miss you," Remy admitted in a tired tone. "Felt so good to have you close."

 

"I'll call, visit you in Ireland…"

 

"Poppa," Remy shook his head and smiled weakly. "We bod know you can' keep dose promises."

 

"I will find a way!" Jean-Luc insisted. "Logan will take you to de airport. Are you sure that you want to go with Warren?"

 

"Oui," Remy whispered, squeezing his father's hand tightly. "Feel like I've been given a second chance…"

 

"Don't shut him out when de pain starts," Jean-Luc warned him.

 

Remy lowered his eyes. "Will try, mais I still feel 'shamed for…"

 

"You didn't do anything wrong," Jean-Luc reminded him. "De Antiquary did." He had so hoped this was behind Remy and now…! "I love you, Remy," he whispered, knowing how much Remy needed to hear it, over and over again.

 

"Je t'aime," Remy replied, as if in prayer. "Always will, poppa."

 

"Let me walk you to de car." Jean-Luc forced back his tears, hoping Warren had packed the books into one of their bags. Remy didn’t need to see them yet. "Send me a post card? Call me? Write me?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Will have a lot to write 'bout ," he hinted, as the door opened and Warren came into view. "Got your blessin' on dis?" he asked softly.

 

"Oui, petite." Jean-Luc kissed his son's brow. "You've got to get moving…"

 

"Don' want to leave," Remy whispered softly.

 

Jean-Luc caught Warren's eyes, telling him to take over. Once Warren had a tight hold on his son, Jean-Luc stepped back. A last smile and Remy was heading towards the car. Merde, this hurt!

 

"The assassins won't hurt them," Logan promised, seeing Jean-Luc's worried eyes.

 

"I trust you," Jean-Luc replied, losing the fight to choke back his tears.

 

Remy held onto Warren, feeling poppa's eyes in his back and he turned around. Jean-Luc's eyes were watered and Remy waved good-bye.

 

"Remy? Are you all right?" Warren pulled Remy close as the Cajun almost tripped over his own feet. He didn't want to break the magic between Jean-Luc and Remy but… "We need to leave."

 

Remy slipped into the car after looking at Jean-Luc one last time. It'd take him a long time to forget the unshed tears in his poppa's eyes. "Ange?"

 

Warren quickly slid into place next to Remy, steadying his lover with one arm. Although Remy's physical closeness unnerved him a little, he could deal with it. There was nothing sexual in helping his love sit upright because he was wounded. If Remy were kissing him… now that would be a reason to panic! "Everything will be all right. I promise." The words slipped from Warren's lips, before he'd realized it. Warren peeked at Remy's eyes. The obvious hurt in them also tore at his soul. Maybe a distraction would help, would make it easier on Remy. "You still want to go to St. Louis' first?"

 

"Oui," Remy said determined. "Want to say good-bye to père Etienne!"

 

///

 

St. Louis Cathedral

 

"Make it short," Logan instructed as he shooed Remy and Warren into the cathedral. His instincts warned him that the assassins knew that they were on the move, but he hoped holy ground didn't classify as battleground.

 

Remy nodded his head and pushed his hand onto the wound. It pounded, the intensity of the ache growing worse. He was overdoing it, but he had to talk to père Etienne one last time.

 

Warren bit his lower lip, watching Remy closely. The young Cajun stumbled over his feet and instinctively, Warren reached out to steady him. Remy's sluggish reaction worried him. "Are you okay? You should be resting, not running around like this." But yes, he knew how important this was to Remy.

 

Remy didn't hesitate and held onto Warren, curling an arm around his love's waist. Defensively, he wanted to tell both men that he had to do this, but just in time he read understanding in their eyes. Warren trembled nervously. Warren was uneasy, being this close to him. Why? He could figure that one later, now he had to find père Etienne. One of the younger priests approached, smiling friendly. It struck Remy that the priest's expression was warm, then he remembered that he was wearing sunglasses and that the other man couldn't see his eyes. A melancholy smile floated over Remy's face.

 

"Can I help you?" the young priest inquired politely.

 

Quickly, Remy glanced at Logan, who guarded his back. Then Remy focused on the priest again. "Can I talk to père Etienne?" He hoped nothing bad had happened to the old priest, remembering his saviour's absence when he'd brought Warren here. Don' punish him for helpin' me, mon Dieu, he prayed fervently.

 

Warren noticed the shocked expression on the young priest's face. Shit! Don't let him be dead! Warren didn't want Remy to hurt even more!

 

'Père Etienne? Did you really say père Etienne?" the young priest made sure.

 

"Oui, de old man… who locks de doors at night," Remy explained, suddenly feeling weak in his knees. "He has some private rooms near de crypt?" His hold on Warren tightened. Please, mon Dieu! Remy couldn't possibly go on living knowing he'd caused the old man's death!

 

The young priest nervously beckoned them to sit down on the benches. "Did you see Etienne?"

 

Warren grew suspicious. "Can we talk to him?" Damn, they did't have time for this!

 

"Did you?" the priest repeated, addressing Remy.

 

"Oui," Remy stuttered confused. "He helped me…"

 

"Mon Dieu," the priest whispered and crossed himself.

 

"What?" Remy whispered in dread. "What's wrong?"

 

Warren helped Remy to sit down and remained at his side. Acting on impulse he rested a calming hand on Remy's shoulder.

 

"Is that your père Etienne?" the young priest asked and gestured at a painting near the doorway. There was a number of paintings, depicting the faithful men that had served God, serving in this cathedral.

 

Hesitantly, Remy raised his eyes to study the paintings and sucked in his breath. In the center of the collection of paintings was père Etienne's face, immortalized in paint. "Oui."

 

Warren's eyes followed Remy's and saw a kind face with compassionate eyes.

 

"Monsieur," the priest started. "Père Etienne died 100 years ago."

 

Warren sensed Remy's shock and gently squeezed his love's shoulder. "Maybe it was a hallucination?" he suggested at a loss.

 

"NON! I saw him… talked to him!" Remy protested in bewilderment.

 

"He lived here, you're right about that," the young priest explained, "But in 1899 he died in his bed. One of the other priests found him, an unearthly smile on his face."

 

Remy trembled violently. "I ain' goin' mad!" he sobbed upset. "He held me," he whispered and looked up into Warren's eyes. "He held me durin' de nightmares."

 

An older priest who had been listening closely joined them. "Are you talking about père Etienne, mon fils?"

 

"Oui," Remy sighed. "Tell me he's still 'live!" This had to be a joke, a cruel joke and père Etienne would appear any moment now, chiding him for believing this crap!

 

The elderly priest gave Remy a compassionate look. "You're not the first to meet his ghost."

 

"Ghost?" Warren repeated in disbelief. During his time as an X-Man he'd encountered many inexplicable things, but this topped everything. "A ghost?"

 

"Oui," the elderly priest smiled warmly. "He only appears to those pure of heart who need guidance and help."

 

"Pure of heart?" Remy choked out. He helped me! Le diable blanc! I ain' pure of heart! His mind tried hard to deal with this unexpected explanation.

 

"You say he appears regularly?" Warren cut in, worried about the tremors that rocked Remy's body.

 

"Oui," the elderly man replied. "About a year ago he helped a small girl who'd been accidentally locked up inside the cathedral. She was only 4. When we found her, she told us that an angel had watched over her. When we asked her to describe this angel, she pointed at the painting."

 

Remy got to his feet, trembling and shaking his head. Mebbe I better go mad… dis is absurd… The thought of a ghost helping him, shocked him. "You can' seriously believe dis!" Remy raved upset. "I want out of here!" he yelped, looking pleadingly at Warren.

 

"Don't be afraid," the elderly priest soothed Remy, "Angels are meant to help us and most of the time we just don't see them. But sometimes, they show themselves to us. You're truly blessed, mon fils!"

 

"Blessed!" Remy snarled, wondering why he was this upset. Roughly, he pulled Warren along.

 

"Hey, slow down, Rem!" Warren stated and pulled him close. "As an X-Man you should know there are beings out there that defy logic. Why does this freak you out? Maybe you do have a very alert guardian angel!"

 

Staring into Warren's eyes, Remy shivered. "De Devil's boy doesn' get a guardian ange!"

 

"What about me then?" Warren smiled warmly, signaling Logan that they were leaving. "Or don't you want me as your guardian angel? What do I need to do to get that job?"

 

Suddenly, Remy laughed softly. "Can' deny you're an ange." Slowly, he started to head for the doorway, looking at the grande angel statue near the altar. "What?" Blinking his eyes he forgot to breathe. "Warren, look!"

 

Alarmed, Warren turned around, ready to defend his love against a possible attacker. "What is it?"

 

"Next to the statue," Remy whispered respectfully, trying hard not to faint.

 

Warren glanced at the angel statue and only now realized an old man stood next to it. It was the man from the painting. "Is it père Etienne?" he asked Remy shakily.

 

"Oui." The whisper flowed through the cathedral. Remy raised his arm to wave at the old man. He really wanted to run over to père Etienne, but something held him back.

 

Père Etienne waved back and smiled warmly, truly pleased that Remy had cared enough for him to return here. Maybe he should give this young man the only gift he had to offer.

 

"Warren…?" Shocked, Remy watched as père Etienne's form changed. "Can' believe…" His fingernails clawed into Warren's arm.

 

Warren held his breath as well. The old priest's black clothes faded and revealed a white/yellow robe made of precious fabric. Brown wings, sparkling with gold, sprung from the figure's shoulders and suddenly the face transformed as well. A brown haired angel with dark eyes smiled at them.

 

"Mon Dieu," Remy whispered, suddenly afraid the angel might think it sacrilegious. "Warren? Am I goin' mad?" he whispered dazed. The figure radiated so much light and warmth that he swayed on his feet. Luckily, Warren had a tight hold on him.

 

"Then we're going mad together," Warren whispered and swallowed hard. Damn, this was the real thing! He felt it. This wasn't a mutant. This was a real angel.

 

The angel smiled, extended his hand in greeting and a soft voice drifted into their minds while they clung to each other.

 

"You no longer need me, Remiel."

 

Remy whimpered as the form grew less in intensity, finally fading away. "Did I see dat? Did you hear dat?" Pleadingly, he looked at Warren. "Don' tell me I lost my mind!"

 

Still a little shaken himself, Warren managed a smile. "Geeze, Remy… looks like you do have your personal guardian angel." He really needed to think about this revelation. Maybe God exists after all…

 

Logan, unaware of what had transpired, walked up to them. "Time to go, kids."

 

Remy's voice trembled. "Oui, just a moment, mon ami." Closing his eyes, he whispered a thank you to the heavens.

 

///

 

Note

You can find a picture of the angel I described at http://www.angelartbyeve.com/gallery2000.html Scroll down to number 94, named Raphael. 

 

///

 

"Yer gonna be 'kay." Logan's voice sounded soothing and certain. "Just take the time to heal, kid." He took Remy's left hand and walked him to the plane. "Don't forget to call yer old man!"

 

Remy was quiet, still taken aback by his experience in the cathedral. As he looked at Warren, he noticed a similar astonishment in his blue eyes. For some reason, seeing this angel had affected Warren too. "I will," Remy promised, knowing from personal experience that poppa wouldn't have the time to answer his calls. But it's de t'ought dat counts!

 

"Take care, bub," Logan said roughly, feeling awkward. Eventually, he pulled Remy into a brief embrace, squeezed his still too frail frame and then released him. "And Wings… ya better make sure the kid's takin' of himself!" Seeing Warren's eyes Logan felt reassured. Warren knew what he was getting himself into and was determined to go all the way.

 

"Merci, Logan," Remy whispered affectionately, squeezing back and then allowed Warren to take his hand. Merde, he was wobbly on his feet! His side pounded and his fever was getting worse. He'd been walking around too much and needed rest!

 

Warren led him up the stairs and turned around one last time. Like Remy, he waved at Logan and then helped the Cajun to settle down in one of the comfortable chairs. Yeah, there were definite advantages to having a complete plane to yourself!

 

Remy sighed now that he was finally off his feet. Looking through the window he watched quietly as Logan marched back to the limousine. He really didn't want to leave New Orleans! Mais I don' have a choice!

 

Warren sat down next to Remy and fastened their seat belts. The plane was ready for take off and it'd be a long flight to Ireland. Once they were airborne he'd level the chair so it made a comfortable bed for Remy. At least that way Remy could get some rest. The young Cajun looked awfully pale and sweat poured from his pores.

 

They braced themselves for take off and once they were in the air, Warren couldn't help voicing his concern. "You don't look that well, Remy." His new love had been incredibly quiet since they'd left the cathedral. "Let me," he said and adjusted the chair so Remy could lie down comfortably.

 

Surprised, Remy locked eyes with Warren. The concern that lay in those blue eyes surprised him. Oui, Warren had come back for him, but… this was unexpected. Did Warren really care that much about him?

 

"Are you thinking about père Etienne? Your angel?" Warren pulled a blanket from underneath his chair, covering Remy with it. "You feel cold, Remy." Hesitantly, but urged on by concern, he placed his right hand on Remy's brow. "You've got a fever, Rem." Now, where is that bag filled with medical supplies? Remy definitely needed antibiotics.

 

Remy smiled warmly, treasuring his concern. "I'm bien," he whispered. "Just need some sleep." Remy cuddled up underneath the blanket, bathing in Warren's obvious worry.

 

"Here, you need to take this regularly according to your father." Warren handed Remy two pills and then fetched a glass of water. "It's going to be a long flight. You best sleep through it."

 

Remy briefly considered not taking the meds, but he didn't want Warren to get mad at him. So obediently, he swallowed the antibiotics. Warren was obviously prepared to make this work, so he'd better try hard as well and not fuck up.

 

"Are you okay?" Warren took the glass and put it down. "Anything else you need, Remy?"

 

"Do you t'ink we really saw an ange?" Remy whispered, shifting a little to get more comfortable. "Do you?" His eyes slowly dropped shut, but he refused to give in yet. This was the first time they were alone, really alone since Warren came back.

 

"Yes, I think we did," Warren said resolved. "Do you also wonder why he allowed us to see him like that?" Warren leaned back in his chair and studied Remy's pale face. Once they were in Ireland he'd see to it that Remy got enough rest.

 

"I don' know…" Remy admitted shaken. "I'm still tryin' to figure out why he took care of me." Shivers ran down his spine. "I never suspected…"

 

"When we were in the cathedral you said something…" Warren looked him in the eyes, sleepy eyes. "The devil's boy doesn't get a guardian angel…" He clearly noticed Remy's violent flinch. "Is that how you see yourself? As some sort of demon?" Warren could hardly believe his own conclusion.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted within a heartbeat, determined not to lie to Warren. Mon Dieu, he also wanted this relationship to work! "De eyes…"

 

"Red on black…" Warren smiled saddened, suddenly realizing something about his love. "Who called you that? Devil's boy?"

 

Remy drew in a deep breath. He was tempted to use his fatigue as an excuse so he didn't have to discuss this now, but… Poppa had warned him not to shut Warren out when the pain started. "De oder boys and… he did."

 

"The Antiquary?" Warren's heart contracted violently. The damn bastard! Warren fought hard to control his rage, knowing seeing him enraged wouldn't soothe Remy.

 

"Oui, made oder boys avoid me 'cause of my eyes." Remy finally gave in and closed his eyes. "Sorry, cher, mais I'm tired."

 

"Does your side hurt?" Warren inquired softly, pleased that Remy sat safely in the chair next to him. No assassins, no Antiquary would hurt him any longer. He'd keep all the bad things away.

 

"A peau," Remy mumbled, already dozing off. "T'ink we'll ever see dat ange 'gain?"

 

"I don't know, Remy." Warren was extremely tempted to brush back some stray locks but still felt inhibited. He couldn't touch Remy in that way yet. His mind was still trying to deal with being attracted to a man! "But at least now you know that there's someone watching over you. And you certainly deserve a guardian angel." Leaning in closer, he felt helpless and couldn't stop himself from caressing Remy's face with his eyes. "And you're not a demon, Rem… you're not."

 

"Mer…ci," Remy mumbled, his mind already asleep.

 

Satisfied, Warren crossed his arms in front of his chest. Remy wasn't the only one who was wondering about this angel. But Warren's reason to doubt that he'd really seen that angel was different. After fighting so many mutants and beings whose existence defied logic, he'd given up on believing in God. He shivered, remembering one of the worst enemies they'd ever fought and strangely enough that hadn't been Apocalypse, although that name still made him tremble. It was the Beyonder, who had made him doubt God's existence. Kurt had also begun to doubt his faith in God because of this being. And now, an ange hadl revealed itself to them, calling Remy, Remiel. That was another thing that puzzled Warren. Remiel… why Remiel?

 

I feel like a fraud, having these wings. I can never be the real thing. I'm just a man with wings. As he looked at Remy, Warren remembered the faith in those red on black eyes. Remy had always called him ange. Jean-Luc is right. I don't deserve these wings. Warren adjusted his own chair as well and lay down on his side so he could closely observe Remy's face. He desperately hoped that the nightmares would stay away this once.

 

///

 

After a while, Warren got bored. He needed to do something, as his body was still full of energy. In the end, he picked up one of the books Jean-Luc had advised him to read. "The battered child," Warren whispered in a strangled tone. Well, he'd better find out what to expect and how to react to it!

 

///

 

"Mister Worthington? We're about to touch down."

 

Reluctantly, Warren opened his eyes. "Thanks, Rob." The co-pilot returned to the cockpit and Warren's eyes settled on Remy. His heart missed a beat. At one time during the flight he'd put away the book and had fallen asleep as well. And now Remy's head is on my shoulder and one of his hands in my lap! Embarrassed, Warren forced himself to clasp his fingers around Remy's and returned the hand to its rightful owner. He didn't want to admit it, but he was rock hard and his erection pressed against the confines of his jeans. Damn! Can't believe I'm reacting like this!

 

However, Warren couldn't pull away from Remy, knowing it'd cause a rude awakening. So he allowed Remy to continue to rest his head on his right shoulder. The Cajun was so close… and his body reacted to that closeness. Whatever doubts he'd had about wanting Remy, he could dismiss them now. A melancholy smile passed over Warren's face. "It's a good thing that Bobby isn't here!" Warren groaned, remembering Drake's smug smile only too well!

 

"Cher?" Remy slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on Warren. "Side hurts."

 

"Thanks for telling me and not trying to hide it!" Warren said thankfully. "We're going to change the bandages once we're at the cottage, Remy."

 

"Where are we goin'?" Remy tried to remember if Warren had told him. "Oui, Ireland, mais where?" The blanket slipped onto his waist and he smiled brilliantly when Warren pulled it up to his shoulders again. Oui, the man did care!

 

"You've never been to Ireland?" Warren asked, remembering something that Remy had told him when Warren had apologized.

 

"Never…" Remy cocked his head, rested it against the headrest and simply watched his love's eyes, sighing in bliss to have the man this close.

 

"When I was very little, my mum was still alive," Warren started softly. These were fond memories. "Every autumn she'd drive my old man mad until he took us there. It’s a small cottage in county Wicklow. Nothing major," he smiled. "A very simple cottage. Don't expect a castle or manor."

 

"Can' impress me wid your money," Remy said jokingly, but wondered about the sudden changed expression on Warren's face. "Cher?" The word rolled gently from his lips, like he'd called Warren cher for years. It felt right. It felt comfortable.

 

"No, I guess I can't!" Warren smiled in return. "At least I can be sure that you're not after my money!"

 

His reaction surprised Remy, but he decided not to address that matter. "You loved bein' dere?" Remy asked, returning to their original subject.

 

"We spent some great weeks there, Rem. Mum was so different from my father. We played on the beach, while dad studied the stock market."

 

"What happened?" Remy asked hesitantly. "Did she die?"

 

"Yes, when I was six. I never visited Ireland after she died. Dad didn't want to go back to Redcross during the autumn and after he died, I never had the courage to go up there on my own."

 

"And now you are takin' me dere?" Remy whispered honored. It felt like Warren allowed him into his very private sanctuary.

 

"Yeah, I think the place is perfect for the two of us. Are you okay with this?"

 

Remy grinned warmly. "Cher, we're 'bout to touch down and you ask now?" His grin transformed into a bright smile. "Mais oui. If you want me dere dat badly…"

 

"Let me help," Warren leaned in closer to fasten their seatbelts again. Warren's breathing grew shallow as Remy's fingers suddenly brushed his face. "Uhm, Rem?" It was a little unsettling, sensing those gentle fingertips trailing down his throat.

 

"You're uncomfortable wid me touchin' you," Remy stated, feeling alarmingly certain. "Is it 'cause of what de Antiquary...?"

 

Warren quickly looked up, only focusing on Remy. "It's not you, Remy… It's about me… I never knew I liked guys and…"

 

Remy wasn't sure he believed that explanation. Maybe Warren was just trying not to embarrass him because he did feel uncomfortable regarding his past.

 

"Don't," Warren whispered as the plane made contact with Irish soil. "I want to touch you, but… I'm nervous. You've got to be patient with me, Remy."

 

"Are you sure dat's de only reason?" Remy wondered aloud. It wouldn’t be the first time that people shied back because of his past.

 

"I'm sure, crazy Cajun!" Warren chided him as the plane lost speed. "We need to drive up to the cottage. It's a one hour drive. Think you can make it? We'll have a look at your side the moment we get there."

 

"Don' worry 'bout me," Remy mumbled softly. "I can make it." Well, maybe Warren was telling the truth. It might be scary to suddenly realize that you were bi and not straight! "You'll have to do de drivin'," he said teasingly. Truthfully, his aching side was getting worse.

 

"C'mon, let's get going. We deserve some rest." Warren hauled Remy gently to his feet and froze as Remy's body pressed into his. The Cajun felt surprisingly good in his arms! Damn!

 

Remy gave Warren a little grin, hoping this relationship would work out. The next days would be a true test of commitment and love.

 

///

 

"It's a grande old house," Remy whispered, taking in the cottage. "Kinda secluded, non?"

 

"We liked that," Warren explained as he drove up to the house. "Mum wanted to get away from all daily routine. The woods stretch on and I haven't tried to climb those mountains since I was little! The nearest shop, village or pub is one mile away… For me, it's safe to walk around without image inducer. It's private property…"

 

Suddenly, and not sure why, Remy felt nervous. "It's personal…"

 

"I want you here with me," Warren repeated and parked the car. "We got lucky. It's not raining!" he said jokingly. "It can rain for weeks over here!"

 

Remy opened the car door and pushed himself to his feet. A chilly wind blew and the sky was grey. The mountains stood tall and impressing, presenting a natural barrier from the outside world.

 

"Why don't we get you to one of the bedrooms first?" Warren suggested as he walked up to the Cajun. "You look like hell, Remy!"

 

Remy chuckled softly, pressing a hand against his wound as his body shook. "You ain' into compliments, cher?"

 

"Later," Warren returned the smile, wrapped one arm around Remy's waist to steady him and fished the key out of his pocket. "I better check on the heating first… It can get cold during these months."

 

Curiously, Remy took in the living room. It was neatly furnished, nothing fancy. "Dat couch looks bien, cher… Put me down dere?" Looking at the stairs he wondered if he could make it upstairs without fainting. This trip had taken a large toll on him.

 

"Okay," Warren gave in, alarmed by Remy's tired eyes. He walked Remy to the couch and helped him lie down. "I'll be back in a sec. I need to check on the room heater and then we'll have a look at your side." Quickly, Warren slipped out of his coat and draped it over Remy's form. "Just stay put, Remy!"

 

His eyes clung to Warren until his love had left the room, then Remy searched his surroundings. Nothing fancy as Warren had said, but this would do perfectly! As he listened to the sounds Warren made, he shivered underneath the coat. His side felt sticky and he hoped it was only sweat and not blood. Hopefully, the wound wouldn't re-open.

 

"It'll get warmer in a moment," Warren assured Remy and quickly kneeled on the floor next to the couch. "Let's see… Do you want to take a shower before I change the bandages?" Remy was covered in sweat!

 

"Are you comfortable wid helpin' me shower den, cher?" Remy asked, trying hard to sound mischievously, but in reality he felt damn insecure, knowing Warren wasn't comfortable touching him.

 

"You're not asking me to… " Warren paused and had the grace to blush. "To step in there with you?"

 

Remy decided to let Warren off the hook. "Just need help dryin' my skin… I can wash my hair later…" Remy offered. Oui, he craved a shower to wash away the sweat. "I can try on my own?"

 

"No," Warren decided quickly. "I don't want you taking a fall in there. So I take it you want that shower first?"

 

"Oui…"

 

"I'm going upstairs and will fill up the bath tub for you, Remy. Stay here and rest?" His eyes pleaded for understanding.

 

"I'll be good and wait…" Remy teased him. It amused him to see Warren all flushed and nervous. Something told him this wasn't typical behavior for Warren.

 

Warren hurried upstairs and went into the bathroom. Quickly, he established a nice temperature and let the bathtub fill. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. How he hated that damned blue skin! How could Remy stand looking at it all the time? "I can't look at myself…" Images of Remy standing naked in front of him made him groan. But he was getting aroused at the same time. He'd seen Remy partly naked. Had seen the scars on his back and chest… "He needs your help because he's wounded for crying out loud!" he chided himself!

 

"Warren? Ange?"

 

"Coming!" Warren replied and fought down his arousal. Damn! This can't be happening right now! After he'd calmed down, he rushed down the stairs. "Come on, Cajun. Let's get you cleaned up."

 

Remy struggled to his feet, allowing Warren to help him. "Dat's many stairs," he whispered fatigued.

 

"I can carry you," Warren replied, not sure if he just tried to be funny or being serious.

 

"I can walk…" Remy mumbled, but leaned heavily on his love. "Is de bedroom upstairs too?"

 

"Yes and we need to talk about sleeping arrangements."

 

Remy's eyes widened a little. Didn't Warren want to sleep in the same bed with him? Did Warren want separate bedrooms? And Remy had been looking forward to falling asleep in Warren's arms! But he couldn't push his love. "Whatever you decide is fine wid me…"

 

Never expecting that answer Warren peeked at Remy. Damn his insecurity! "Do you need… you know, need help to undress?" Please let him say no! he thought, almost panicking.

 

"Just de sweater…" Remy saw the discomfort and his throat tightened. Warren was keeping him at a distance.

 

Warren nodded his head and opened the door to the bathroom. Steam attacked them.

 

"Warm in here, non?" Remy whispered, a little nervous as well.

 

"Lean against me," Warren instructed in a heavy tone and stripped off Remy's coat. Then his hands moved underneath the sweater and pulled the garment over Remy's head. It dropped onto the floor and Warren tried hard not to stare at the Cajun, remembering his earlier arousal.

 

"Merci, cher… I t'ink I can manage de rest." No longer amused, but saddened, Remy watched Warren flee the room. "Am I dat… ugly?" he whispered nervously and managed to catch part of his reflection in the mirror. He flinched at the sight of the web of scars. "Mebbe I am…"

 

///

 

Warren busied himself by carrying the last pieces of their luggage into the cottage. It had been a good thing that his mum had left most stuff like clothes, towels and a lot of kitchen gear behind on their last family trip. He listened to the sounds coming from the bathroom, hoping that Remy would call for help should the Cajun need him. But no disturbing sounds emanated from the bathroom. Just to make sure he knocked. "Everything fine in there, Rem?"

 

"Oui…" Remy whispered absentmindedly. The warm water engulfed his tired body. Mon Dieu, this felt good!

 

"I'm going to unpack. Call me if when you need me?" Warren's eyes traveled to the three bedrooms situated on this floor. One had a double and the other rooms only had singles. Where to put his stuff? Did he want to sleep in the same room with Remy? In the same bed or…? Damn! He said, whatever decision I made was fine with him! Remy was forced him to make the decision. "Take it slow…" Warren reminded himself and put his bags in the room with the two singles. He carried Remy's bags into the room with the double.

 

Remy sighed as he pulled the plug. Slowly, the water disappeared, leaving him cold and miserable. He felt sluggish and his head lolled as he tried to reach for the towels. Merde, taking a bath had been the wrong thing to do! "Warren? Ange? I need your help, cher."

 

"I'm on my way, Remy." Warren quickly finished unpacking and returned to the bathroom. After taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

 

"I can' reach de towels, cher," Remy whispered softly, seeing the embarrassment in his love's blue eyes.

 

"You're… naked," Warren whispered and quickly looked away. Oh, thank God Bobby wasn’t here! Drake would have had a laughing fit! He grabbed one large towel and walked over to the bathtub, trying very hard not to look at Remy's body.

 

So, I'm ugly after all, Remy thought saddened. I can' blame him… I have too many scars. Remy grabbed Warren's offered hand, eager to get wrapped up in that warm towel, feeling terribly chilly at once.

 

Warren peeked at his love's eyes, uncertain what to say. "I'll take you to your bedroom," he informed Remy and folded the towel around the young Cajun's form. Quickly, he grabbed another towel and slung it around the auburn wet hair.

 

"Cold… wet…" Remy murmured as tremors rocked his body.

 

"Damn!" escaped Warren, but he quickly recomposed himself, knowing he had to dry Remy's skin.

 

Remy noticed the hesitance in his love's movements and he reached the conclusion that Warren didn't like to touch him because… of the scars, of his past… Oui, maybe being attracted to a man made Warren feel uncomfortable, but Remy doubted it'd freak Angel out. Suddenly, he just wanted out of the room, away from Warren.

 

Warren wasn't blind and saw the self-doubt on Remy's face. "Rem, I told you before it's not you. It's me…"

 

The words tore into Remy's mind. "I can' believe dat. De scars…"

 

"I've got scars too, Remy. They're part of you… me. I don't… love you less because of them." Sheepishly, Warren stared at the floor. Had he really said that?

 

"Cher, je t'aime…" Remy assured him. "Mais I need to lay down."

 

"Of course." Warren chided himself for being this self-absorbed and walked Remy into the master bedroom. "Get in bed, Remy. I need to renew your bandages."

 

Saddened, Remy realized that only his things were in the room. Warren's bags weren't here. Separate bedrooms! Remy cringed, uncertain if he could sleep without Warren close. As he rested his body on the bed, he had to admit that the mattress was just perfect.

 

Warren retrieved the bag with medical supplies. He sat down on the side of the bed and pulled the blankets over Remy's body. "I need to get everything out first and I don't want you to grow cold."

 

"It's warm in here, cher," Remy corrected Warren. That heater had to be blasting on maximum setting!

 

Warren put the bandages and the salve to disinfect the wound on the bed next to him. "Let's have a look, Remy. Good thing that Hank insisted we all got some first aid training."

 

"Hank…" The name sparkled a memory. "Blue fur?"

 

"Yes. Doctor Henry McCoy, Hank, the Beast? Remember him?"

 

Slowly, Remy nodded his head. "Runs de medical lab."

 

"Yeah, that's Hank. Now, lay still!" Warren pulled back the blanket and carefully removed the wet bandage. "It's not infected yet," he reassured Remy, "But it looks angry and raw…" Absorbed in his task, he focused on supplying medical attention. First he applied the balm and then redressed the wound. "You need to rest, Remy or that wound will never heal properly."

 

But Remy hardly heard Warren's words, too focused on the touch of those warm and gentle fingers, so unlike the Antiquary's touch! Non, merde… don' want to think 'bout him now! In an effort to distract himself he asked, "What time is it anyway?" His biological clock was totally messed up!

 

"9 PM," Warren replied. "Not too early for you to turn in."

 

"I'm hungry…" Remy objected. "And dat couch is really comfortable."

 

"Well, I can fix dinner… and you can watch TV." Suddenly, he realized the absurdity of the situation. When did X-Men get the time and opportunity to live a normal life? Maybe this is my only chance… and I'm going to use it.

 

"I can walk," Remy offered and gestured Warren to hand him some sweats. Awkwardly, he struggled to put them on.

 

Warren could no longer sit back idly and helped Remy to get into the sweater. But what about the sweat pants? Hell, he couldn't withdraw his help now! So he grabbed the sweat pants and slid them over Remy's feet, calves, thighs and… then jerked back.

 

Remy lifted a hand to soothe his love's worries, but Warren was already on his feet.

 

"Can you walk?" Warren asked in a neutral tone. Damn, helping Remy dress couldn't possibly arouse him and yet it had!

 

"Not sure, I'll try," Remy muttered once the sweats were in place. He swung his feet on the floor and instantly reached for Warren.

 

"I've got you, Rem," Warren's tone softened at once. "I better…" and lifted the younger man in his arms… "carry you."

 

Briefly, Remy felt angered, but then decided it wasn't worth arguing about. He placed one hand behind Warren's back and held on as his love carried him back to the living room.

 

///

 

"Remy? Can you give me a hand here?" Warren balanced plates and bowls, filled with sandwiches and soup. "I need to get some groceries tomorrow…and a TV-guide!" he said amused as Remy kept changing channels.

 

Thankfully, Remy accepted the food and balanced it on his lap. "I am hungry!" Remy stated resolved, waiting for Warren to settle down on the couch as well and then dug into the sandwiches.

 

Amused, Warren watched him. "You've got a healthy appetite, Cajun! Hey, stop changing channels and…" he quickly claimed the remote and changed back the channel. "We can watch this."

 

"What is dis?" Remy asked in between bites, literally devouring the food.

 

"The Sentinel… Show's okay." Warren pulled the blanket over their knees and worried, he watched Remy. "Are you warm enough?"

 

"Oui," Remy assured him and attacked the soup next. It was warm and as it slid down his throat he finally felt alive again. "We're playin' couch potato den dis eve?" he said awkwardly, not wanting to embarrass Warren any further.

 

"Sure…" Warren rested his feet on the coffee table and wondered about his new lover. "Are you sure this is fine with you? Being here with me in this secluded…"

 

"More dan fine, ange," Remy whispered as he finished the soup. "More?" and extended his empty bowl.

 

Cursing softly, Warren struggled to his feet from underneath the blanket and returned to the kitchen. "Here, this is the last bit." He handed Remy the soup.

 

"Dat will do," Remy said reassuringly and snuggled up to his love when Warren sat back down again.

 

Warren wasn't sure how to react. Remy was so close! After debating the matter privately, he decided to allow this, but his fingers remained curled around his bowl. It was unnerving enough that Remy's closeness tended to arouse him! "Rem…"

 

"It's 'kay, ange," Remy said softly and rested his head on his love's shoulders. "I just want you close… please?

 

"Okay." Warren covered them both with the blanket and slowly relaxed as they watched the program. "Actually, this is kinda nice…" he admitted in a choked tone.

 

"Hum…" Remy whispered, feeling too cosy to talk, simply enjoying Warren's warm body next to his. Oui, it is.

 

///

 

New Orleans.

 

"Where's Remy?"

 

Jean-Luc cringed, hearing that upset voice. Just what he needed… an angry tante giving him hell! "Mattie… you're too late. Remy just left." She'd be disappointed that he hadn't insisted that Remy stayed until she'd returned. It'd been too many years since Mattie had seen Remy. He knew she wanted to hug and spoil Remy… just like he did!

 

Logan looked up questioningly as the source of the sudden noise sailed into the study. He studied the middle- aged woman, whose hair was decorated with coloured beads. He groaned, instantly realizing she was used to being in charge too.

 

She returned Logan's questioning stare and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Eventually, she addressed the patriarch. "Jean-Luc? Who's dis?" Normally, he never allowed a stranger into his study. "And what's dis about bein' too late to see Remy? You didn' let him leave, did you?" She moved around until she stood in front of the desk.

 

"De assassins got restless and threatened to attack him inside de house. I had to get him out!" Jean-Luc stated resolved. "Mais don't worry about de petite. He's in de best hands. I'll update you later, d'accord?"

 

"I want to know everyt'ing about mon fils," Mattie sighed heavily. "I was so lookin' forward to holdin' him in my arms! How can you do this to me, Jean-Luc LeBeau?"

 

Amused, Logan watched the exchange. Suddenly, Jean-Luc seemed on the defensive, like he needed to justify his actions to this woman! Intriguing!

 

"And who is dis?" Mattie gestured at the stranger in the armchair. "Have you become careless durin' my absence? He might be an assassin!" Disappointment and concern mingled in her tone. Disappointment because sheds too late to see Remy and concern because Jean-Luc was acting oddly.

 

"Dis is Logan…" Jean-Luc introduced him and then wavered. What to call Logan? Friend? Fuckbuddy? Mattie will faint hearing dat one! Or lover?

 

As tante looked into Logan's eyes she shivered, seeing the feral side hiding in his soul. "You're a mutant!"

 

"Yeah," Logan said calmly. "And who are ya?"

 

"I raised Remy… together with Jean-Luc."

 

"She's family," Jean-Luc clarified, eyes filled with discomfort, which he aimed at Logan. Merde, there was no denying. They'd have to talk about their relationship, which had become so much more in so little time! He'd never planned on getting seriously involved with the Canadian, but sometimes things didn't go as expected. But he had to follow his heart, like he always did. It was the same heart that had urged him to help Remy escape from the Antiquary's collection. He still wished he'd tried to get the other kids out as well. Knowing that the Antiquary ruined so many lives still haunted Jean-Luc.

 

"I'm Mattie." She extended her hand, curious to see whether Logan would accept it.

 

"Logan," he grumbled, trying to cover up his own confusion at the looks Jean-Luc was giving him. They felt intimate and… sensual instead of sexual…

 

"Mais it's good you're back, Mattie. I need your help." Jean-Luc leaned back into the comfort of the chair. "I made a decision during dese last few days." He hadn't discussed this yet with Logan. Oui, he'd wanted to, but at that very moment Mattie had arrived. But he was determined to follow through, no matter what her reaction would be like!

 

Now tante was getting suspicious as well. "What's goin' on, Jean?" Something in the patriarch's eyes made her wary. She knew he lived a hard life, but…

 

"I'm going after de Antiquary," Jean-Luc announced in a firm tone, expecting disbelief and maybe even annoyance on Mattie's part. It wasn't the first time he'd made this announcement, but this time it was for real.

 

Logan gave Jean-:Luc a surprised glance. Wasn't that his job? Tracking the bastard down? Not only because he'd promised Warren, but also because he wanted to make sure the bastard never bothered Remy again. So why was Jean-Luc this determined to get involved personally? The Guild needed its patriarch! No way Jean-Luc could leave New Orleans like that!

 

"We'll do it together," Jean-Luc enlightened Logan. "De Antiquary is full of magic tricks… You'll need help."

 

Displeased, Mattie shook her head. "Bad idea, Jean."

 

"Why?" Logan growled. "I'm surprised ya never confronted the bastard for what he did to Remy!"

 

She smiled. Ah, this man cared about Remy… Good! Suddenly, she liked him. "You don' understand, Logan," she said carefully. "De Antiquary was de… 'patron' of de t'ieves' Guild for many… " centuries… "decades. His magic ensured de Guild's success." She couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't tell him that the Guild's leaders depended on the Antiquary to supply them with the potion of eternal life. Only the Antiquary knew its secret concoction. It had been the one thing the Antiquary had used to control the patriarch.

 

"It's too high a prize to pay!" Logan snarled venomously.

 

"I understand how you feel," tante assured him. "It broke our hearts too when we realized what he'd done to Remy, but… de Antiquary stands above de Guild. Even de patriarch had to follow his orders," she tried to explain.

 

Suddenly, Logan's eyes shot fire. I always wondered how the bastard got his hands on the kid. Looking at Jean-Luc, Logan clearly detected the guilt in his eyes. Ya stole him! Trying hard, Logan managed to stay in control of his rage. This was something he wanted to discuss in private later! "Ya got any idea where we can find the bastard?"

 

Mattie's glance shifted from Logan to Jean-Luc. "You don' want to do dis. De Antiquary agreed to leave Remy alone. You don' want to draw his attention to de boy!"

 

"De Antiquary left Remy alone because I banished him!" Jean-Luc exploded. "It's time we got some answers, Mattie. For Remy's sake, we need to find out why de Antiquary's obsessed with him!"

 

"He's right, ya know," Logan cut in. "What if the bastard decides he wants Remy back after all?"

 

Mattie cocked her head, thinking this over. "De Guild won' accept you goin' after him," she stated eventually. "Dey never forgave you for banishin' him. De Guild has become weak because de Antiquary no longer backs us up."

 

"Dat's de second decision I've made," Jean-Luc said calmly and got to his feet. Leaning over the desk, he bared his teeth and said sharply, "I'm going to step down as patriarch!"

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"Uh, Rem?" Warren switched off the TV. It was almost midnight, and although the couch was comfortable, a bed was way more desirable. Remy's head rested on his shoulder and the Cajun had snuggled up to him during the eve. At first, Warren had had a hard time controling his nervousness. Remy felt warm and fitted so perfectly against him that it made him wonder if had been destined to happen. No, he didn't believe in destiny, but sometimes he couldn't help but wonder. "Remy?" he repeated softly.

 

"Don'…" Remy whispered, refusing to wake from this peaceful sleep. Even his nightmares were keeping a distance now that Warren was this close. His right hand sneaked upwards, found Warren's and squeezed it gently.

 

"Looks like I've got to carry you to bed," Warren announced, uncertain whether that prospect thrilled or frightened him. Careful not to pull away the blanket, he succeeded in lifting Remy in his arms. Slowly, he made his way upstairs. Damn, he was swaying too! His back objected to carrying this weight now that he felt fatigued. Warren kicked open the door to Remy's bedroom and gently lay him down, covering him with blankets and comforter. Looking through the window, he realized it was still getting colder. "Hopefully it won't snow," he whispered, uncertain how Remy would react to snow and ice.

 

"Don'," Remy repeated in his sleep and his hand lunged forward to reach for Warren.

 

"Get more sleep, Rem… I'm across the corridor. Just call if you need me," he soothed the young Cajun. Briefly, he sat down, closely observing his new love. He clasped his hands tightly, trying to keep them from tangling in the auburn hair. Why the hell am I fighting this? I want to touch him… and he wants it too… Why can't I do this?

 

Hesitantly, he lifted one hand and let it hover over Remy's face. The Cajun looked so damn young and vulnerable. "Just how old are you?" He'd never considered that question before. From what Jean-Luc had told him Remy had been 18 when he'd been forced to leave New Orleans… So that made Remy what? 22? 23? He'd never realized Remy was this young. Leading a hard life made him look older.

 

Suddenly, his fingers touched the soft locks and he let go of the breath he'd been holding subconsciously. The locks felt like silk. Okay… I can touch his hair… what about his skin? Determined to take the next step as well, his fingers trailed down to Remy's brow. Fascinated, he softly caressed the scar there. He flinched, remembering how Remy had gotten it. 'He wanted to fuck me for money!' Remy had whispered in a choked tone.

 

"That will never happen again," Warren promised emotionally. "Never." His fingers now trailed down to those luscious red lips and he traced their outline. Shakily, he pulled back, impressed that he'd had the guts to actually touch a man like that. "Sleep tight, Remy and dream of your angels," he whispered warmly. He tucked Remy in and decided to keep one lamp on so his love wouldn't wake up in complete darkness.

 

As Warren made his way to his own room, he suddenly felt alone and cold. Part of him insisted it was stupid to sleep in separate rooms, but… I'm not ready yet!

 

///

 

Warren kept tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Something was wrong. His instincts refused to settle down and he got to his feet. Staring at the door, he wondered if this was about Remy. Quickly, he looked at the time. "O400," he whispered nervously. So far this had been a sleepless night. Maybe he'd feel better if he checked on Remy. Reassured, he might be able to fall asleep for the rest of the night.

 

Warren got to his feet, shivering from the cold. It was an old house and the heater was off. He was tempted to sneak back underneath the comforter. "No, I want to check on Remy first. What if he's having a nightmare?" He trembled, knowing only too well there was another reason why he couldn't sleep. Apocalypse and the Marauders were waiting for him in his dreamscape. No way he wanted to relive the pain of losing his wings! And what when Remy remembers how I lost them? I'm not sure, but it wouldn't surprise me if he felt guilty about that too… Damn, he'd learned so much about the way the Cajun's mind worked that it scared him.

 

Tough times were ahead and he knew it. What would happen when Remy remembered Rogue deserting him? What when he remembered the trial? And me refusing to defend him any longer? Ashamed, he grabbed a blanket, draped it over his shoulders and then walked into the corridor.

 

///

 

Frantically, Remy crawled out of bed, falling hard onto the floor. His side pounded alarmingly and he shook violently. I can' stay in dat bed! Remy thought in a panic. After he crawled into the corner of the room, he pulled up his knees and hugged them tigh. He completely ignored the pain in his side. "Too silent…" It was too silent in here. He needed some noise to convince him that he wasn't in the Antiquary's private rooms any longer. Although the room was illuminated, it didn't convince him. The Antiquary could summon illusions…

 

And then there had been this horrible dream, this horrific nightmare! His body trembled with remembered pain. He'd been back in the Antiquary's rooms and the old man had continued to tell him how badly he'd messed up his life. It'd almost felt like he'd been charged with his mistakes, like he'd been put on trial…

 

"Guilty," the Antiquary said and Remy tried to hide from the ugly dream, but couldn't escape his dream world.

 

"You may execute him," the Antiquary stated pleased.

 

Remy screamed, as something sharp caressed the skin of his throat. Briefly, he was on his hands and knees, a guillotine looming over him, threatening to separate his head from the rest of his body. "Non," he whispered scared.

 

"It's time tuh die, sugah…"

 

That voice sent him into hysterics. Crazed, he tried to get away from it, but instead he was being hauled into the air and then dropped onto the freezing ice. It was a death sentence and he knew it. He didn't want to look into her eyes, but he had to know… "Why?"

 

She didn't answer and simply flew away and suddenly the Antiquary's hands were all over him. Sharp slaps descended hard onto his body because he'd had the audacity to fall asleep in his master's bed without permission. It was the only place where he was allowed to sleep and he'd been so tired!

 

Warren hurried over to Remy, flung the blanket from his shoulders and wrapped it around Remy's shaking form. Was it just his imagination or were Remy's lips blue? "Remy? Rem! Listen to me. Listen to my voice. Come on, you've got to wake up. It's a nightmare," he whispered, sitting on his heels next to the Cajun. "Please, Rem."

 

Remy heard something, words, a voice, but couldn't think rationally. She wanted him dead. The Antiquary wanted him dead and… "Poppa?" he whispered eventually, reaching out for the lifeline that had saved him so many times before.

 

"Remy? It's me, Warren. Please look at me," he pleaded. Acting on impulse, he threw away his unease and slowly folded his arms around Remy. "Look at me, Remy. You're safe." Slowly, the red on black eyes turned a little more lucid. "Come on, Rem, I love you… come back to me…"

 

His eyes blinked… The voice was warm, passionately and begging him to listen. "So cold." The ice and snow now covered most of his body and he'd lost the feel in his limbs a long time ago.

 

"Remy? I'm going to get you back into bed…" Remy's scream cut Warren short. Forcing himself to remain calm, Warren waited for Remy to stop screaming. "What?"

 

"I can' go to bed… it's his bed and I'm so tired, will fall 'sleep wit'out his permission… so quiet… too quiet."

 

Warren sighed distressed. Had the Antiquary forced Remy to stay awake when he'd been drained? Had Remy needed the bastard's permission to get some sleep? Biting down his anger was hard, but Remy needed him and Warren managed to speak calmly. "You can go to sleep, Rem…"

 

"I can'…" Remy maintained. "It's too quiet… " he shivered violently, cold to the bone. He still hadn't fully returned to reality. The strange woman and the Antiquary were laughing at him, at his pain and horror.

 

"What if I stay the night?" Warren whispered. His own suggestion shocked him. "So much for sleeping separately." As he slowly lifted his love, he realized how cold Remy was. "Just trust me to take care of you, Rem."

 

Too tired, too screwed up from all the nightmares that mingled in his mind, Remy didn't object. He went limp in the strong arms, sensing a steady heartbeat underneath his fingertips. His head rested against a chest and then he felt the mattress underneath his body. His instincts kicked in. "Can' fall 'sleep." The antiquary would punish him!

 

"Yes, you can, love…" The word slipped from his lips unintended and Warren briefly trembled himself. "I'll hold you," he promised passionately. He sneaked into bed and pulled Remy into his arms. "We need to get you warm, Remy." First, he pulled the blankets and comforter over them and then he folded his arms around Remy's waist and shoulders, facing him. "Come closer, Remy."

 

Remy gave up on protesting and moved into the arms, rested his head against the warm body and held on for warmth and comfort. It felt good to be held like this and slowly, the cold became more bearable. It took him several minutes to recompose himself, but then he looked into Warren's blue eyes.

 

"Better?" Warren inquired, pushing away his unease at holding Remy. The Cajun cuddled up to him, fitting perfectly in his arms. Smiling weakly, Warren placed a kiss on Remy's brow, barely believing he was really doing this. Next, he tucked Remy's head beneath his chin, soothingly rubbing the Cajun's back.

 

"Much better…"

 

"Do you want to talk about that nightmare?" Warren couldn't help it. One hand trailed up Remy's back and gently stroked the auburn locks. This felt incredibly right, like this was meant to be. Remy shivered underneath his fingertips. "Scared you that much?"

 

Remy wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the nightmare, but an ingrained reflex took over. Poppa had always made him tell and he couldn't help but react in the same way now. "Dere's ice… ice and snow all 'round me and… he is dere, tellin' me I have to die for my mistakes…" Soft sobs shook his body.

 

"Shst," Warren soothed him. "I'm here… no one is going to hurt you. I promise."

 

"And den dere's dis woman. She's beautiful, but her eyes are cold… so fuckin' cold!"

 

Rogue, Warren realized instinctively. He's starting to remember the trial! Panic washed over Warren, scared that Remy would also remember his part in that trial. I failed you, Rem.

 

"Why does she want me dead?" Remy asked nervously. "Because of de… de Massacre?" Speaking the words still hurt.

 

"Rem, listen to me," Warren cupped his love's chin in his hand and forced Remy to lock eyes. "You didn't cause the Massacre. Sinister used you. Please, forgive yourself for that."

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "I t'ought…"

 

"What?" Sudden apprehension swept through Warren. Just what do you remember, Remy?

 

"Dat you blamed me…"

 

"Remy?" Scared, Warren stared into the alien eyes. "I don't blame you." Yes, at one time he'd blamed the Cajun for leading the Marauders into the tunnels, but the more he'd thought about it, the more convinced he'd become that Sinister had set Remy up. "You didn't know it would be a slaughter. If you had, you would never have led them there. That's why Creed…" his voice trailed off as Remy yelped in his arms. "Rem?"

 

"Creed… claws.. pain… the tunnels… tried to save dem! I really tried, mais…" Remy raved, remembering Creed clawing at his chest. "He left scars… just like de Antiquary did."

 

"Remy?" Something inside Warren snapped seeing the watering red on black eyes. The sobs started anew. "It's okay. Let it out, Rem. Tell me what scares you. No more secrets."

 

"He ripped open my chest… left me dere to die… I could only save a girl… bones stickin' out of her body." Remy refused to close his eyes, refusing to go back there. "I don' t'ink I ever told anyone 'fore," he whispered melancholy, "At least not dat I remember… mais for a moment it felt like deir pain was mine. Like all de people dying were inside my head and I couldn' get 'way from dem. After Creed slashed me I lay dere, listenin' to dem dyin'…"

 

"Damn, Remy!" Warren whispered distressed. "I never knew." His arms tightened around the Cajun, stroking, caressing and holding him close.

 

"Can you forgive me?" Remy looked into Warren's blue eyes, scared of what he'd find there. "I never wanted to get dem killed. T'ought Sinister would help dem, like he helped me."

 

"Helped you? How did he help you?"

 

"Removed brain stem matter," Remy confessed choked. "My power was out of control. I owed him…"

 

Speechless, Warren just held Remy's gaze prisoner. "I forgive you for being young and naive, for letting Sinister use you."

 

"De Massacre?"

 

"You didn't cause the Massacre, Remy." Warren waited until Remy had regulated his breathing. "Want me to stay or…"

 

"Stay," Remy whispered upset. "I need you…"

 

"I'm here." Warren didn't know how to offer more comfort. "I love you, Rem."

 

Remy smiled against Warren's chest. "Je t'aime, ange," he confessed passionately. "Stay and hold me?" That was all he wanted; to listen to Warren's heartbeat, to feel this warm body close to his. "I can' be 'lone."

 

"I'll stay. Now try to get back to sleep, love."

 

"I love it when you call me dat, cher," Remy admitted blissfully. "Don' let go of me," he pleaded.

 

"I won't," Warren promised. "I'll hold you through the night."

 

Reassured, Remy closed his eyes, adjusting his heartbeat to Warren's slower one and drained, he dozed off again.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight slowly dripped into their bedroom and it was Warren who first opened his eyes. Something warm and heavy was nestled against his chest and curiously, he opened his eyes. "Rem," he whispered, taken aback. The Cajun's eyes were slightly red from crying, but Remy looked breathtaking in the morning light. So beautiful. So perfect. His heart stirred with want and love. Too soon. We need more time, Warren realized and tried to ignore his morning hard-on. Maybe a cold shower would help. Then he'd get their groceries so he could prepare a decent breakfast. "I forgot to bring in the laptop," he remembered. Bobby would want to know if everything was fine and Remy could e-mail Jean-Luc that they'd arrived safely.

 

Remy stirred in his arms, nuzzling his throat and chest. The touch traveled straight to Warren's groin. To him, Remy was liquid sensuality, seeping into his pores. He had to get away before his determination crumbled! "I'll be back with breakfast in an hour," he promised and struggled from beneath the blankets. Knowing Remy was warm and soundly asleep, he walked into the bathroom.

 

///

 

Thirty minutes later, Remy opened his eyes too. His memories of last night were kind of foggy. He remembered having nightmares about ice, a strange woman and the Antiquary of course. Shivering, he wondered why the old man couldn't leave him alone, why the Antiquary had to haunt his dreams. Remy's head snapped back, suddenly remembering being pulled into warm and strong arms. Warren had soothed him last night, had caressed his skin, had listened to his confessions. "He forgave me," Remy whispered nervously.

 

Although Warren answered some of his questions, Remy didn't know why the ice and the strange woman were in his dreams. Were they fragments of his past or part of his imagination? Only Warren knew the answer, but Remy was too scared to ask. Speaking of Warren… Why was he alone in bed? Remy managed to sit upright and looked about. The room was empty. There was nothing that proved that Warren had spent part of the night here… Nothing that proved Warren had called him love. Had it just been another dream?

 

Fighting his panic, Remy pushed back the covers and struggled to his feet. His side throbbed and he remembered taking a hard fall last night. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to lock out the pain. Panicking, he wondered where Warren was. If it had just been a dream, Warren had to be in the other bedroom! He dragged the blanket with him, trying to hang on to a little of the warmth they'd built during the night. His bare feet moved over the floor. Luckily it wasn't that cold any longer. Seems like the heater had kicked in.

 

As he reached Warren's bedroom Remy froze in dread. The bed was neatly made and the room empty. "Warren? Ange?" he called out in sheer fear of abandonment. Frantically, Remy checked the dresser and cupboards. Warren's clothes were still here… Still here… maybe Warren was in the kitchen or…His heart beat irregularly, scared to uncover the horrible truth that Warren had deserted him a second time. Maybe Warren had realized that he couldn't deal with being in love with a man after all!

 

"Mon Dieu… please," Remy stuttered, almost in tears. "Not 'gain… he can' leave me 'gain!" Merde, this meant that it had been a dream after all. Warren had never come to his room to comfort him. It had just been a fucking dream! Shaking himself to pieces he descended the stairs, still hoping to hear Warren whistling, see him move about, but the kitchen was empty and so was the living room. With a startling sense of resignation, he looked out of the window. "De car's gone… de car's gone…"

 

Remy dragged himself over to the couch. Plates and bowls from yesterday eve were still on the coffee table, reminding him of the comfortable evening they'd shared. But it was over now. "I'm a fool," Remy chided himself. A fool for love. Clutching his head in his hands he continued to fight his tears. He should have known Warren would change his mind. After all, Warren had left him before.

 

Suddenly, his heart missed a beat. He rushed over to the window and couldn't believe his eyes. After parking the car Warren kicked open the doors, balancing groceries in his arms. One item fell onto the ground and Remy smiled, hearing the loud curse. "I am a fool," he said chidingly, "A fool for believin' he would leave me!"

 

Remy had never felt happier in his entire life, terribly relieved that his worst fear hadn't come true. Acting on impulse, he hurried over to the door. After opening it he walked towards Warren. Remy needed to be reassured that his love was back, needed the reassurance so badly that it hurt!

 

"Rem! Get inside! Crazy Cajun! You’re supposed to be resting!" Warren quickly took in Remy's flushed appearance and my God, were there really tears swimming in Remy's eyes? Shit! Remy thought I deserted him again! The thought drove a sharp knife through his heart. "I had to buy groceries," Warren explained in a choked tone.

 

Remy took one of the grocery bags and headed inside again, now feeling the cold climb up his legs. I can' tell him what I t'ought! He'll hate me for it!

 

"Rem?" Warren put the other bags on the kitchen counter and watched his lover's back. "Remy?" Slowly, he turned the Cajun around. "I should have left a note. Should have told you I was going to the store… I didn't want to spook you," he apologized. Since last night it was easier to touch Remy and his fingers brushed some stray locks behind his love's ears. "I'm sorry."

 

Lost for words, Remy trembled. Mon Dieu, Warren knew what he was thinking!

 

"You know I'm still working on this, Remy, but… can I hold you?" It was a huge step. Holding and caressing Remy last night had been different. The Cajun had needed the support, the affection, but now Warren was taking the initiative. Warren slightly opened his arms.

 

Remy didn't hesitate and flung himself into them. Without speaking a single word he leaned heavily on his love, treasuring that heartbeat underneath his ears. "I'm sorry too."

 

Warren smiled saddened. "I understand that you believed I left you, Remy. I did that before, but I promise I won't do it again."

 

"I still need to get used to… you lovin' me," Remy admitted.

 

"Are you hungry, Remy?" Warren cocked his head and managed to catch Remy's alien eyes with his. "We can fix breakfast together."

 

"I'd love dat." Remy nodded his head. "It's cold in here, cher," he said, trying to let go of the pain. Warren hadn't desert him! I need to get over dis fear and insecurity!

 

Warren refused to let go yet. Now that he had taken this step, he refused to release Remy this quickly. "Last night was a revelation," he whispered softly.

 

"Last night?" Remy cringed. "So you know 'bout de nightmares?" He felt embarrassed and ashamed for having been that weak last night. That hadn’t been the way he'd wanted to draw his lover's attention. Merde! He didn't want Warren to see him like that!

 

Warren recognized Remy's fear and his fingers gently tangled in Remy's silky hair. "I think I'm getting over my fear of touching you." Now, if that didn't get Remy's attention, nothing would!

 

"Uh?" Remy's eyes flashed brightly. He'd expected Warren to address the Massacre, not… this.

 

"I wanted to hold you so badly that… that I just went ahead and did it… just like I'm doing now." The bewilderment in Remy's eyes didn't surprise Warren. "Maybe we can take the next step?" He was damned nervous, but he really, really wanted to do this.

 

"Next step?" Remy repeated entranced. Only now he realized how close Warren was. Gentle fingers stroked his hair and another hand soothingly rubbed his back… Mon Dieu!

 

"I want to kiss you, Rem," Warren admitted. "Would you like me to kiss you?" Yes, he could do this. He could kiss Remy's lips!

 

"Mais oui," Remy whispered big-eyed.

 

Warren leaned in, holding Remy close. At first, his lips tentatively brushed Remy's and electricity spread through Warren's body. Those lips were soft and sensually responded to his kiss. "Oh, my God," Warren whispered, suddenly realizing just how badly he wanted this.

 

Surrendering to the kiss Remy closed his eyes, willingly parting his lips and allowing Warren entry. He whimpered as their tongues started a slow duel, chasing each other. His body pressed tightly into Warren's and he panted shallowly as the kiss continued and deepened.

 

Warren couldn't take his eyes of Remy, so warm and so perfect. Short of breath, he was forced to stop the kiss. "Sorry, Rem…" he whispered, noticing the bruised lips. "I didn't want to…"

 

"Ange…" Remy smiled reassuringly. That kiss had taken his breath away too. "I'm wobbly 'gain," he remarked teasingly. Mon Dieu, for a moment he'd thought he had died and gone to heaven. "More later?"

 

"Most certainly… more… longer… later," Warren mumbled at a loss. I never had a chance fighting this. This is meant to be… this is destiny.

 

With one arm still wrapped around his love's waist, Warren pulled Remy into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Something ensured him this would be a passionate day.

 

///

 

New Orleans

 

"I want answers," Logan stated resolved. Mattie had left the study a few minutes ago and ever since tension had been building between the two men.

 

Jean-Luc waited patiently. "I know dat…" But what was it that Logan wanted to discuss first? Their relationship or…?

 

"She said that the Antiquary controled the patriarch with the potion of eternal life… Did he control ya?" Logan shifted in the chair and lit a cigar, which would hopefully calm him down a little. If what he suspected was true…

 

"Oui, he did." Jean-Luc knew there was no way out of this. And basically, he wanted to share this secret with someone he trusted. "He ordered me to steal de baby from de hospital." Unable to guess Logan's reaction, he waited for the Canadian's reply.

 

"Ya stole a baby?" Logan's voice was filled with disgust. "Did ya stop to think 'bout what ya were doin'? What 'bout the parents? What the bastard would do to the kid? How could ya do that?"

"I didn't have a choice! Merde!" His fist slammed into the desk. "I didn't have de power back den, which I have now! I had to carry out his orders! De Antiquary is… sacred to most thieves! When I banished him from N'awlins de entire Guild threatened to rise against me!"

 

"But to steal a newborn!" Logan noticed the guilt in Jean-Luc's eyes, but… "Ya could have done somethin' to stop it!"

 

"I tried!" Jean-Luc exclaimed. "Mais all de other thieves thought of de baby as an abomination. I stood alone! And I couldn't oppose de Antiquary alone! Don't you think dis still haunts me?"

 

"Is that why ya adopted Remy?" Logan needed more time to process this. It sickened him that someone had stolen a baby from its parents, but at the same time he understood Jean-Luc's dilemma. He had been in similar situations in which he hadn't had a choice.

 

"Partly," Jean-Luc admitted in a heavy tone. He dropped onto his chair and locked eyes with the Canadian. "It's a long story."

 

"I ain't goin' anywhere," Logan leaned back, gritting his teeth. "Ya better tell me now 'fore we run into the Antiquary and he tells me."

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc started, "I stole de baby." It was hard to confess, but if he wanted this relationship to work, he had to do this. "De first time I looked at him, de other thieves insisted de child was a monster… de devil. I couldn't believe dat. I would have taken him in, but de Antiquary wanted him for his collection." Jean-Luc looked away. "I didn't want to hand de baby over, mais de Guild insisted I obeyed de Antiquary, so I did."

 

"Bastard," Logan whispered. His heart felt for Jean-Luc, but he couldn't condone the patriarch's actions. "Ya could have said the baby hadn't survived birth! Ya could have taken him into safety."

 

"Non, I couldn't." Suddenly, Jean-Luc's voice turned icy. "I wasn't alone. Two other master thieves accompanied me."

 

"What happened next?" Logan fought the urge to let his claws pop out and slash the furniture to pieces.

 

"I knew dat de Antiquary was a vile man. Dere were rumours dat he abused de children dat made up his collection, but my hands were tied. Ten years later, I was strong enough to challenge his authority and I ended up banishing him from de Guild. Needless to say dat de Guild never forgave me for weakening deir position. De Antiquary promised to return, to extract revenge."

 

"So ya banished him? Where was Remy all that time?" Slowly, Logan calmed down, realizing Jean-Luc was still suffering, still paying the prize for his mistake.

 

"I helped Remy flee de collection, which was quickly taken over by de Antiquary's allies. At least de abuse stopped." Jean-Luc hated going back in time, hated telling this.

 

"What 'bout Remy?" Logan pushed on, curious and enraged.

 

"Unfortunately Remy ran after I got him out. He was so fast dat I lost track of him. He lived on de streets for a few months. Den, my men located him and I arranged it for Remy to be able to pick my pocket. Dat's when I took him in."

 

"And yer still payin' the prize, even now…" Logan didn't know how to react, what to feel or think.

 

"Not paying," Jean-Luc corrected him. "I really love Remy, consider him my own flesh and blood. He makes good what is wrong in my life." Jean-Luc searched for the right words. "Mattie and I spent ten years to undo a small percentage of de damage de Antiquary did. When I realized how badly he'd hurt Remy… I can never forgive myself for being such a coward when I was younger."

 

"And ya want to talk to the bastard, why?" Logan had reached his decision. He'd stand beside Jean-Luc in this search, but it'd take him some time to come to terms with what Jean-Luc had done. But he has been doin' a great job makin' himself miserable... and he helped Remy the best he could…

 

"De other kids in de collection never went through de kind of abuse Remy suffered. I want to know why de Antiquary was so determined to break him." Jean-Luc wondered if he had lost Logan's trust. He hoped not, realizing how important the Canadian's forgiveness was to him. "I never wanted to hurt Remy."

 

"What 'bout the kid's parents?" Logan would deal with Jean-Luc's guilt later. It was time to look towards the future. Staying stuck in the past wouldn't help them.

 

"Dat's another reason why I want to talk to him. He also ordered me to steal de baby's birth certificate. I think dat he wanted to eradicate all evidence dat Remy ever existed."

 

"Ya didn't peek at the names on it?"

 

"Non, I was too shaken when I realized how special de baby was…"

 

Logan raised a questioning eyebrow. "Special?"

 

"Being a mutant… and his smile… his small fingers closed around mine and… my heart broke when I had to hand him over." Jean-Luc felt a little reassured, now that Logan was still here, not walking out on him.

 

"So," Logan recapped, "We go find the bastard responsible for this and find out why he wanted Remy and who the kid's parents are."

 

"You're still going to help me?" Jean-Luc asked to make sure. "I know what I did was wrong…" he offered as apology.

 

"I know that… and I can hardly believe ya stooped that low, but we should concentrate on helping the kid the best we can. Are ya gonna tell him the truth?" Logan watched him closely, noticing the twitch near Jean-Luc's mouth.

 

"I never planned on telling Remy," Jean-Luc admitted. "I don't want to hurt him even more. I don't know how he'll react when he finds out. I'd destroy de trust between us."

 

"But now yer livin' a lie," Logan replied slowly. "But I can understand 'bout not wantin' to hurt him."

 

"Logan," Jean-Luc got up and walked over to the Canadian. "Has dis changed things between us?"

 

"I don't know yet," Logan whispered, sighed and rose from the chair. Staring into each other's eyes, he studied Jean-Luc. "I'll help ya track the Antiquary down. We'll find those answers and after that… I don't know. We just have to take this one step at a time."

 

"Merci," Jean-Luc said relieved. "I hoped you'd understand…"

 

"To a certain degree," Logan corrected him. "I understand about bein' forced to follow orders, but… this is a mess, man."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Mais I'm glad you know de truth now… not even Mattie knows…"

 

"Hey, Cajun…" Logan lifted a hand and rested it on the thief's shoulder. "We all make mistakes. Yers ruined a kid's life… But ya tried to make it up to him. Remy really loves ya… Ya did de best ya could."

 

Relieved, Jean-Luc realized he could count on Logan's continued support. However, he didn't know what this had done to their relationship. Only time would tell.

 

"Jean-Luc?" Mattie stepped into the study, face determined, eyes questioning. "I know where you can find him."

 

"Mattie?" Jean-Luc quickly walked up to her. She had her own sources to extract information, sources that he couldn't access. "Where is he?"

 

"Russia… Moscow." Mattie studied them both, determination shone from their eyes, then she voided her concern. "I don' want Remy to get hurt because of dis."

 

"Warren will protect him," Jean-Luc assured her. "Call Marceaux! I need to tell him dat he's now in charge of de Guild! Logan, we're leaving in a few hours! Get ready!"

 

"I'm ready to kick some ass," Logan hissed and left the room, knowing that Jean-Luc had to take care of some loose threads. He wondered how the Guild would react to Jean-Luc stepping down.

 

"Be careful, Jean," Mattie said concerned. "De Antiquary knows your fears. He'll summon up your personal demons." She walked up to him. "He'll threaten to hurt Remy if you don' back off. Ask yourself, is findin' out de truth worth it?"

 

"Oui, it is!" Jean-Luc stated resolved. "Remy deserves to know de truth!"

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"All right," Warren mumbled. "You want to use the comp first? Jean-Luc should know we arrived safely." Warren looked up at Remy, who was obviously having a hard time staying put on the couch. They'd finished breakfast an hour ago and Warren had retrieved the laptop from the car.

 

"You don' mind?" Remy inquired, as Warren put the laptop on the Cajun's knees. "I won' read any of your mail," Remy promised softly.

 

Warren settled down next to Remy on the couch and picked up the TV guide. "Go ahead, Rem. I'm going to plan the rest of our day." Now that Remy was stuck in the house, Warren planned on taking things slow. Remy needed rest, not running about. Warren grabbed a pen and started highlighting the programs that might be of interest.

 

Slightly confused, Remy opened a new message and addressed it to poppa. Next, his fingers froze. "I don' know what to write."

 

"Why's that?" Warren looked up from the guide.

 

"I never… never kept in contact," Remy tried to explain. "Poppa doesn' have de time to answer my messages… dis will only make him feel guilty."

 

Warren put the TV guide down. "Do you want to write it together?"

 

Remy gave in. "What should I write?"

 

"Dearest poppa," Warren started and gave Remy a warm smile. Sudden amusement shone from red eyes.

 

"Dearest poppa it is," Remy whispered and typed the words. "Now what?"

 

"C'mon, Remy!" Warren sighed exasperated. He got to his feet and started rummaging in one of Remy's bags, which he still had to unpack. He located the framed picture and put it on the shelf near the fireplace. Both Cajuns looked happy and thrilled. "Tell him what you feel."

 

Remy sighed, "You can be irritatin', cher."

 

"Thanks!" Warren smiled teasingly. "Do you want some tea or do you prefer coffee?"

 

"Tea," Remy mumbled absentmindedly as he typed away.

 

Dearest poppa… we arrived safely. So far I've only seen the inside of the house. Warren is really overly protective, like you are.

 

Remy made sure that Warren was still in the kitchen, wanting a little privacy before making his next admission.

 

Last night I had a terrible nightmare about… him. Will he ever stop haunting me? Poppa… I feel lost… but I have Warren and he's really supportive. He held me through the night and even called me love! This morning we even kissed… after I freaked out. Warren went to get some groceries and I thought he had left me again. I was so stupid… But… he still doesn't like touching me, poppa. I think it's the scars. Warren probably thinks about what the Antiquary did when touching me… It's strange though.

 

Remy listened to the sounds Warren made in the kitchen, still feeling safe enough to continue to bear his soul.

 

I don't understand. He hasn't even addressed having sex. Is that because he hates the scars? Why else? I know that you tried to explain to me that sex and love are two different things, but I still don't get it.

 

"Remy? Do you what a snack as well? I got cookies." Warren looked over at the couch, seeing his lover's knitted brow. Damn, he wished Jean-Luc could have tagged along.

 

"Sure," Remy whispered lost in thought.

 

Sorry to bother you about this, poppa, but you're the only one who understands. I know that you're too busy to answer this message… That's okay. I just want you to know that I love you and am thinking about you.

Your son, Remy.

 

After a moment's thought, Remy sent the message. He could only hope that Jean-Luc had the time to read the e-mail, but he certainly didn't expect an answer.

 

"Your tea… and cookies," Warren handed Remy the cup and then placed the laptop on the coffee table. He planned on e-mailing Bobby later. "What are you thinking about, Rem?" He disliked seeing the apprehension in those red eyes. Instinctively, he knew how important it was that they'd discussed these matters. Remy shutting him out was the worst thing that could happen!

 

"T'inkin' 'bout us," Remy admitted as he slowly sipped from his tea.

 

"Us?" Warren put his tea on the coffee table and turned to study his love.

 

"Oui… It's so… weird dat you're hesitant to touch me," Remy choked out in a tiny tone.

 

In an effort to reassure Remy, Warren took hold of Remy's left hand and soothingly rubbed his lover's fingers. "I'm working on it. Dad never hugged me… It's hard to change my way of thinking."

 

"Dat's not it," Remy objected, lost in thought. He spoke his mind before realizing he was saying the words aloud. "I've never been wid someone who wants to take t'ings slow… who doesn' jump me…"

 

"Rem," Warren reached up and caressed Remy's face. "I want to take things slow because I want this to be different."

 

"Different from what?" Pleadingly, Remy stared into Warren's blue eyes. "Make me understand. Do you t'ink I'm ugly? Because of de scars?" The words escaped unintended.

 

"Is that it?" Warren whispered in sudden understanding. "You mentioned this last night too."

 

"Most men just want sex…" Remy explained earnestly. "Den dey dump me."

 

Jean-Luc is right… Remy still thinks, feels and acts too much like a victim, like he doesn't have a say in the matter. Warren chose his next words carefully. "I'll try to explain this to you, Rem." He lifted Remy's hand to his lips and kissed the knuckles. Remy's sudden intake of breath made Warren smile. He felt excited as well.

 

"Oui?" Remy whispered in a desperate tone. He didn't know what to make of Warren's signals. They confused him.

 

"Do you remember Betsy? Psylocke?" Warren asked concerned. If he wanted Remy to fully understand his reasons, he haf to explain the past first.

 

A shudder rocked Remy's body as the face of a dark haired woman appeared in his mind. "I think I do." He didn't add that he never liked her. Merde! Remy realized with a start. "Betsy and you…"

 

"We were an item, yes, but we split up months ago," Warren said soothingly. "We're no longer together."

 

Remy's panic grew less, hearing the reassurance. Briefly, he'd been scared that Warren was cheating on Betsy, playing him as well. "What does she have to do wid… us?" He spoke the word hesitantly.

 

Warren felt uncomfortable. He'd never admitted this to himself. "On our first date we ended up in bed. We had sex and I felt like I had to perform to the best of my ability, to satisfy her every need."

 

Remy blushed. "You don' have to tell me dis."

 

"No, I need to tell you, just listen." Warren drew in a deep breath. "I only realized this recently. I hated being judged by my performance in bed. She always made it very clear that she was doing me a great favour, letting me touch her like that. Each time after we had sex, she would disappear into the shower to clean up. It always made me feel like she wanted to wash me off."

 

"I'm sorry," Remy mumbled, uncomfortably. "Why are you tellin' me dis?"

 

"I want to take this slow, because I don't want this to be about sex." Warren caressed Remy's skin and the Cajun closed his eyes in bliss. "I want this relationship to be about other things as well, trust, love, honesty," Warren added.

 

"I never tried dat…" Remy confessed, lost as gentle fingers traced his lips.

 

"Neither have I, but I'm willing to make this work." Warren smiled, seeing the happy smile on his love's face. "We're going to take this slow, Rem."

 

"I…" Remy hesitated, afraid to mention his fears. "I'll fuck dis up. I don' know how to make dis work."

 

"Hey, love." It surprised Warren how easily that little word slipped from his lips. "We're in this together. We'll figure it out."

 

Remy shook his head. "Never had a successful relationship 'fore."

 

"Then this will be our first," Warren reassured Remy and leaned in closer to press a teasing kiss on Remy's lips. "Geeze, this is getting easier all the time." Then, he halted, realizing something. "You can take the initiative too, you know." Thus far, he'd instigated their kissing.

 

"Ange?" Remy avoided Warren's eyes, focusing on the cookies in his lap. Warren's fingers still caressed his brow, lovingly tracing the scar. "Don' I gross you out?" Merde, he'd never wanted to say that! Remy cringed, wishing he could flee the room this instant, but his injury made that impossible.

 

"Gross me out?" Warren repeated shocked. "Why do think that?" Warren took hold of Remy's hands and pulled the Cajun a little closer. "Just tell me, Remy." The books Jean-Luc had given him had stressed the importance of discussing feelings. Warren was really happy that Remy wasn't shutting him out.

 

"You know what de Antiquary did, what I sometimes had to do to survive on de streets… I had lovers before I joined de X-Men… all fucked up relationships or messy one nightstands. I can' believe you'd want me." Hesitantly, Remy peeked at Warren's eyes. "I've been 'round de block, Ange."

 

"Rem," Warren whispered shocked. "I wish you had never been hurt like that. I understand that you need time to… adjust to this, so do I, but I will never think less of you because of the abuse or your affaires. All I want is you… just the way you are."

 

"I needed to hear dat," Remy whispered nervously. Trembling, he leaned forward and nestled against Warren's chest. "I'm…"

 

Warren distinctly heard the self-loathing and stopped Remy. "I love you, Rem." He chuckled privately. I never told Betsy this many times that I loved her. Maybe they had said it once or twice during the time they'd been together.

 

Remy remained quiet, simply savouring the arms locked around him, the heartbeat close to him. "I'm sleepy, sorry."

 

"You didn't sleep that well last night," Warren stated. "Why don't you take a nap right now? I need to write some messages, unpack the rest of our stuff and…" Warren smiled, sensing Remy's regular breathing. Gently, he got to his feet and helped Remy to get comfortable on the couch. Then he retrieved the comforter from their bedroom and covered the Cajun with it. "Sleep tight," he whispered and kissed Remy's brow. Yeah, touching Remy wasn't that hard!

 

Warren carried the laptop over to the kitchen table and sat down. As his eyes scanned the screen, he noticed that Remy had sent one message, addressed to his father. Briefly, he felt tempted to read it, but then dismissed the idea. Remy was entitled to his privacy. A grin surfaces on Warren's face as he typed Bobby's e-mail addy. Blue furry balls… How did Bobby come up with these things?

 

Hello Drake! I'm trying hard not think about what will happen should Hank find out about your new e-mail address. He will think up some terrible punishment! How are things with Nicholas? Did you go out on that date? Just want you to know that I really want to hear about that one! More on a serious note. I never expected you to find out that Remy's still alive or that I'm love with him. But thanks for all the advice you gave me (and for kicking my butt!) I returned to New Orleans and I told him I love him. Remy feels the same way. We decided to go to Ireland (that's where we are now) to try and work things out. I'm following your advice, Bobby, taking things slow.

 

Did I already tell you that he has amnesia? It's getting better… or worse. He doesn't remember Rogue and only now starts to dream about the trial. You know what really freaks me out? Remy remembering that I told him to defend himself. Remembering that could shatter the trust we managed to build. There's so much more I want to tell you, but I can't. I know things will be tough and I will need someone to talk to. There's so much I need to tell you, but I want your word first that this will remain between the two of us. You can't tell Hank! Do you understand, Drake?

 

Okay, let me know if you're okay with that. I need to check on Remy. He fell asleep on the couch and his side has been acting up.

Take care, Ice Cube!

Warren.

 

Reading his message over Warren shook his head. He'd only planned on a short note, not a letter. Well, it looked like he'd needed to get this off his chest! After he sent the message, he closed the laptop and returned to Remy, who was still deeply asleep, a sleep undisturbed by dreams. "What do I do next?" Warren wondered aloud. It was only 13.00 and there was no way he could leave the house as long as Remy was asleep. He didn't want to scare the hell out of Remy ever again. "Well, I didn't get that much sleep either," he sighed and sat down on one end of the couch. Slowly, he pulled Remy's head onto his lap.

 

The Cajun didn't even wake, knowing he was safe as long as Warren was near and shifted a little closer, never releasing the comforter.

 

Warren rested his feet on the coffee table and settled for stroking Remy's hair and listening to the Cajun's steady breathing. A few minutes later, he dozed off as well.

 

///

 

Hours later, Remy woke and opened his eyes. He felt surprisingly warm and comfortable. Quickly, he realized why. Warren was holding him tightly in his sleep. His head rests in Warren's lap and his lover's arms rested on his. Remy's eyes continued to scan his lover's face, remembering bits and pieces of their last conversation.

 

"Takin' t'ings slow." Remy didn't know how to do that. All his relationships had been based on sex… he'd never managed to connect on another level. The only exception to that rule was Jean-Luc, but what they shared was very special. If it hadn't been for poppa and tante he would have given up a long time. Ashamed, Remy remembered all the times that he tested poppa, tested Jean-Luc's commitment and honestly. Even after spending several weeks at the LeBeau household he'd expected Jean-Luc to turn into a monster like the Antiquary. But that had never happened. Jean-Luc had always treated him like his son.

 

And that was exactly what he was doing to Warren now, testing him, but this time subconsciously. Warren insisted that they took it slow. That confused and made Remy feel relieved at the same time. He'd never stopped hoping that one day he'd find someone who'd love him just the way he was. But now that Warren was here, he felt scared of disappointing his new love.

 

"Don't do that."

 

Warren's voice took Remy by surprise. "Sorry," Remy whispered, realizing that he had been looking at his love's face for several minutes. "T'ought you were still 'sleep."

 

Warren locked eyes with Remy and smiled. "Did you sleep well?"

 

"Oui, t'anks to you," Remy admitted. "Havin' you dis close makes me feel safe."

 

Absentmindedly, Warren stroked Remy's auburn hair. "Does this feel good to you too? It feels so right," he mused.

 

Remy couldn't help but concur. "It does. I can' explain it, mais…"

 

Warren licked his lips. "Rem, about that kiss this morning. I hope you don't think I'm pushing you." He silenced Remy by placing a finger over his lover's lips. "No, I mean it. I don't know what pace is appropriate. I try gauging your reactions, but…"

 

"You ain' pushin' me," Remy assured Warren. "I liked kissin you."

 

"Would you be interested in… you know… another kiss?" Warren smiled, cocked his head and remembered Remy's passionate reaction earlier that morning. But damn! He was scared that this would set off nasty flashbacks. "Just be honest, Rem."

 

"I'd like to kiss you… and do a lot more," Remy sighed. Suddenly, his eyes widened. Why had he added that last part?

 

"It's okay, Remy, I understand." Warren leaned in closer, gently holding Remy's face between his hands. He moaned as their lips brushed. Soft tremors rocked their bodies as tongues traced the insides of each other's lips. Warren's eyes remained open, carefully monitoring his love's reaction. So far Remy still felt comfortable. Willingly, Warren parted his lips, luring Remy's tongue inside. 

 

Remy groaned at Warren's delicious sweetness. Warren's eyes were locked with his, making Remy even more aware of the fact how much his ange loved him. The kiss seemed to last for hours and after an eternity Remy came up for breath. "Cher… wow," he whispered dizzy. "Never felt dis good, dis right."

 

Warren nodded his head. " I know what you mean, Rem…" He laughed warmly as Remy's stomach growled with hunger. "Dinner time, huh?" he said teasingly.

 

"I'm 'fraid so," Remy replied and allowed Warren to pull him into a sitting position. The pain in his side had lessened considerably.

 

"You still need to take your antibiotics." Warren got to his feet and collected the meds from the kitchen table. He offered them to Remy with a glass of water. 

 

"How much longer do I have to take dem?"

 

Warren looked at the instructions. "Looks like another 7 days, Rem."

 

"Merde…"

 

Amused, Warren pulled Remy gently to his feet. "Why don't you go upstairs and clean up a little? I'm going to start dinner and you can lay the table…"

 

Remy nodded his head. He did want to change into a fresh set of sweats. "Je t'aime," he whispered suddenly, eyes warm with affection.

 

"I love you too, Rem," Warren replied and placed a swift kiss on already bruised lips. I never thought that saying it would be that easy. Actually, I want to scream it at the mountains!

 

///

 

"I never knew you're such an excellent cook," Remy complimented Warren. He'd really eaten too much, but it'd been so delicious! "And de dessert…" He seriously doubted he could also eat dessert!

 

"Chocolate mousse," Warren announced and placed the plate in front of Remy. "Just a few bites or do you want me to feed you?"

 

"Temptin'." Remy quipped, suddenly teased by a vision of Warren covered in chocolate mousse, waiting for him to lick it off his body. However, the image also invoked another memory, one he'd tried to forget for years…

 

"What is it?" Warren recognized the naked terror in Remy's eyes and had to push, had to know the truth in order to help his lover. "You can tell me everything, love."

 

Hearing that word pushed Remy over the edge. "He made me go down on him…"

 

Speechless, Warren swallowed hard. Oh my God, Remy! Warren got up from his chair and quickly covered the distance between them. Covering Remy's hands with his, Warren managed to catch Remy's evasive gaze. "I don't know what to say," he offered honestly. "Is there anything I can do…"

 

"Would you hold me?" Remy cut Warren short, determined not to let the Antiquary stand between them. The old man was not going to ruin this!

 

"Crazy Cajun," Warren whispered affectionately and put his arms around Remy's trembling frame. "It's okay to cry in order to let go. It's okay to cry," he repeated and was relieved when something wet moistened his shirt. "Just let go, Rem."

 

Holding onto Warren, Remy finally let go of his pain.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

"Scott?" Bobby raised an eyebrow. He was distributing the mail and had already delivered a bunch of scientific magazines to Hank and the professor, a package with oriental seeds to Storm for her garden and was now knocking on Scott's door. "C'mon, Slim. I don't have all day!"

 

"Bobby?" Jean rushed to the door and opened it. "Scott's in the danger room, working on a new program. Why don't you give it to me?"

 

"Here you go, sweetheart…" Bobby's eyes grew big, realizing what he'd just called Jean.

 

"I take it your date with Nicholas went well?" Jean smiled, accepting the small package and put it on Scott's side of the bed.

 

"Actually, Nicholas and I had a long talk last night," Bobby revealed, blushing slightly. "He doesn't have a problem with me being a mutant."

 

"That's great," Jean said happily. "Is there a chance I can meet him, or are you greedily going to keep him to yourself?" She stepped out of the room, planning on helping Scott test the new training program.

 

"Maybe we can have lunch together…? I'm sure he won't mind. He's very easy-going…" Bobby sighed, blissfully in love.

 

Angry voices ruined his happy mood. "What?" Bobby asked Jean. "Sounds like Joseph and…"

 

"Rogue… they've been fighting ever since Warren asked about Remy." Jean's eyes grew saddened. "I don't want to believe she left him out there to die, but… right now it's the only possible answer."

 

"How can I trust you, Rogue?" Joseph's voice echoed through the corridor, followed by a slammed door.

 

"I always liked Rogue," Bobby admitted thoughtfully and watched as Rogue appeared and flew off through one of the open windows. "But I guess I've been blind to her true nature."

 

"Bobby," Jean patted his shoulder. "We've got to move on. I just wish Remy hadn't died out there."

 

Bobby was tempted to tell her the truth, knowing damn well she was mourning Remy's death, but he couldn't do that without Warren's permission. But maybe he could give Jean hope. "We never found his body, Jean. Maybe he made it out alive?"

 

Briefly, hope flickered in her eyes, but then died. "Thanks, Bobby, but we both know miracles like that don't happen to people like us. " Saddened, she recomposed herself and followed Bobby to the danger room.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

It had been a long, very long day and exhausted, Scott stumbled into their bedroom. Silently, he thanked Jean for the offer to finish the training program. He really needed a break. He had been at this for too many hours, all the time trying to forget just why he was burying himself in this huge amount of work. He'd failed. It was as simple as that. Fearless leader had failed a team-mate. "Why can't I stop thinking about it?" he wondered aloud as he dragged himself into the bathroom to take a quick shower. As the water cascaded down his body he released a deep sigh, letting go of his tension.

 

Gambit. The name continued to twist in his mind. He'd failed the Cajun. No matter what had happened in the past, Remy had proven time and time again that he was a true X-Man. Compassionate and ready to fight for a just cause. Damn! Why hadn't he picked up earlier on the problems between Rogue and Gambit? True, it hadn't been any of his business, but the professor entrusted their lives to him whenever they left on a mission!

 

"If only I'd been there… Gambit might still be alive now." Now things were a mess. Rogue had taken Joseph as a new lover and he just couldn't figure it out. Why Joseph? Just because they could touch? Was that all a relationship meant to Rogue? Scott tried to imagine having Rogue's mutant power, unable to touch bare skin. Would it keep him away from Jean? Would it destroy the love between them? "I rather slap on a Genoshan collar… " At least that way he could touch her, make love to Jean. But he felt certain that Rogue had never considered it. He knew because Hank had a few collars for research purposes and they'd never left the lab.

 

And again Scott wondered about Rogue and Gambit. Had it been true love? "On both their parts," he whispered aloud. It still struck him as odd that Gambit would chose a lover who couldn't be touched. Damn! This was messing with his mind!

 

Sweetheart? Jean walked into their rooms and cautiously probed her husband's mind. Is this okay? she asked carefully, not wanting to invade his privacy.

 

"Yes," Scott sighed deeply. He stepped out of the shower cabin and wrapped himself up in warm towels. As he walked into their bedroom he forced a smile onto his face.

 

Hey, I miss him too, Jean sent soothingly and she sat down on the bed, patting the space next to her. Want a backrub? You look tired. Stop blaming yourself for Remy's death. You weren't even there, sweetie.

 

"We waited too long before going back to Antarctica." Fatigued, Scott picked up the package Bobby had handed Jean and threw it onto the chair. It felt like a letter… maybe with a file attached to it. He'd check it out later. First, he needed Jean's closeness.

 

"Scott," Jean started, pulling him down next to her, "You went back there. You tried to find him. You did everything humanly possible. Let it go. It's okay to mourn his death." It was something she had been doing for months, mourning her friend's death.

 

Scott sat quietly. "I lost too many people… Jean. You know that," he whispered shakily, surrendering to Jean's touch. "I just want it to stop."

 

///

 

Ireland

 

Warren smiled warmly, as Remy dropped next to him onto the couch. "You ready to watch the first movie?" When he'd picked up the groceries, he'd also checked out the vids for rental and had chosen two.

 

"You're really serious 'bout takin' t'ings easy!" Remy sighed exasperated. He didn't remember the last time he had this much spare time. With the X-Men, there had always been a villain to fight! Getting used to a different rhythm of life would take time.

 

"Yeah, I am!" Warren quipped and put in the first vid. "I even made popcorn." Warren also pointed out the soft drinks on the coffee table. "No alcohol as long as you're on meds!"

 

"Merde, you're no fun!" Remy cursed softly, but made sure amusement colored his eyes. "You turnin' into a moder hen, ange!"

 

"You need one!" Warren countered and forgot to exhale when Remy moved a little closer. "What are you doing?"

 

Remy lifted one of his love's arms, draped it over his shoulder and snuggled up to him. "Gettin' comfortable for de movie," he announced wickedly, resting his head on Warren's shoulder.

 

Remy fit perfectly against his body. "Oh," escaped Warren breathlessly. The contact started a reaction in his groin, almost crumbling his determination. But he knew what was at stake and that he had to be strong. "You tease! You're doing this on purpose!" 

 

"Oui, guess you’re right," Remy admitted blissfully as Warren pulled him closer. "What movie did you rent?" In the back of his mind he fervently hoped it wasn't a movie with a lot of snow and ice in it.

 

"I hope you'll like it. It's called 'The Mummy' and comes highly recommended by Bobby." Warren pushed the play button and then grabbed the popcorn bowl, balancing it on his knees. Remy immediately lunged forward to grab a handful and Warren smiled. "Hungry again?" Remy's appetite had returned with a vengeance.

 

"Oui, mais popcorn will do…" Remy looked up wickedly. "What are you goin' to cook me for dinner dis eve?" It was fun pushing Warren's buttons a little. It surprised Remy how much he enjoyed Warren's reactions.

 

"Me? Cooking dinner for you?" Warren exclaimed with a grin on his face. "Well, maybe," he gave in quickly, too relieved to see the smile on the Cajun's face. He wasn't going to argue! "Now be quiet and let's watch the movie!"

 

"Does Bobby know 'bout me?"

 

The question hit Warren unprepared. Should he tell the truth or a white lie? "Why are you asking me that question?" With one eye Warren continued to watch the commercials.

 

"Because your message was addressed to Bobby Drake," Remy said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "I peeked at the addy," he admitted in a guilty tone. "I just wanted to check if poppa replied… "

 

"It's okay," Warren said soothingly. "I should tell you anyway. I don't want to have any secrets from you."

 

"Ange?" Remy looked up, eyes big, lip quivering. "Did you tell him?"

 

"Honestly, Rem, he figured it out himself. I needed to talk to someone when I realized that I loved you." Warren stopped the tape and focused on his love. "He kicked my butt back to New Orleans, telling me I was a fool to let love slip away."

 

"He figured it out himself?" Remy urged Warren on, still leaning against his lover for support.

 

"I kinda… defended you when they mentioned Antarctica and the trial," Warren confessed, leaving Joseph and Rogue out for now. Remy wasn't up to remembering them yet and he wouldn't force the process. "Bobby found it… odd that I felt that strongly about you getting stuck out there and… at that time I had already told him I was in love with a man." Heart pounding, he waited for Remy's disapproval. "Sorry that I violated your trust."

 

But Remy just gave him a warm smile. "You defended me?"

 

Warren wondered if Remy had heard the rest of his admission as well, as the Cajun only focused on that one fact. "Yeah, I did. You might want to know that others disagree with the way things went at the trial as well. You still got friends in Westchester."

 

Shyly, Remy looked away. "I'm not sure 'bout dat, cher." At a loss, he asked, "Do dey know I worked for Sinister? That I helped de Marauders…?"

 

Warren cut him short. "They know, but you're not to blame for the Massacre. Please try to get that into your thick skull!"

 

Remy remained quiet and Warren was urged into action. "Love," and geeze, how easily did that little word slip from his lips! "You don't have to worry about Bobby. He's a friend. Ice Cube practically hit the ceiling when he realized that you're still alive."

 

"I always liked Bobby," Remy whispered, "Mais I always felt dat he didn' like me, 'cause of…" Suddenly, he grew silent, wondering why Bobby disliked him. "I don' remember why," he admitted softly.

 

"You'll remember when you're ready to remember. So, do you mind Bobby and I talking on the net… maybe even talking about you?" Warren phrased this carefully. "Bobby and I have been friends for years."

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I don' mind…" But was it the truth? Did he know himself? How did it make him feel, knowing one of the X-Men had learned he was still alive?

 

"Want to watch the movie now?" Warren inquired and handed Remy the remote. "Or do you want to talk some more?"

 

"Non, movie sounds fine." He could worry about Bobby later. Right now only Warren holding him mattered.

 

///

 

"Dat was a… spooky movie!" Remy chuckled amused, wondering if you could get high on soft drinks, too much popcorn and chocolate.

 

"Yeah," Warren agreed as he balanced the tape in his hand. "We still got one more to go."

 

"I'm hungry, ange."

 

"Dinner first?" Warren checked the time, 19.00. "I can nuke a pizza?"

 

"Nuke a pizza?" Remy laughed warmly. "I always took you for de 'healt'y' type!"

 

Warren nodded his head. "Usually, I am, but I want to get back onto the couch with you." Closely, he watched Remy's stunned reaction. The red on black eyes widened, the pupils dilated and the Cajun looked flabbergasted.

 

"You're kiddin'," Remy whispered taken aback. Part of him still had problems believing that Warren really loved him.

 

"No, I'm not!" Surprisingly quickly Warren got to his feet.

 

Remy never expected that move and fell to his side. "Merde, cher!" he cursed teasingly.

 

"I'm back in five!" Warren promised and ran into the kitchen.

 

Remy watched Warren disappear, heard him rummaging around in the fridge, opening the oven and shoving the pizzas inside. "Wid extra cheese!" he called out and ducked as a pillow came flying at him. Mon Dieu… he hadn't had such a great time in… years? And he owed it all to Warren.

 

///

 

30 Minutes later, they dug into the pizza. Remy's pizza was topped with extra cheese and Warren had added canned pineapple to his. Warren cursed as some cheesy strings ended up in his face instead of his mouth. When getting the groceries he'd remembered just in time that pizza was Remy's favorite food. "Tomorrow, you cook!"

 

"Moi? Cook?" Remy quipped and laughed brilliantly, remembering his chocolate fantasy about Warren. "What's de oder movie 'bout? More mummies?"

 

Warren pushed the tape inside and hit play. "Okay, this one will probably be lost on us but… I always wanted to see what the fuss was about."

 

His curiosity piqued, Remy kept a close eye on the screen, but distinctly noticed Warren struggling with another cheesy string. He felt incredibly giddy and contended, though he wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was the relaxed mood.

 

Warren finished his pizza and announced, "We're going to watch Titanic!"

 

Remy pretended annoyance. "Titanic? Ain' dat a little too romantic?" He put Warren's and his plate on the coffee table and grabbed the pillow Warren had thrown at him. He felt so relaxed, so safe that he didn't realize what he's doing until he heard Warren's surprised intake of breath.

 

Warren looked down at the Cajun, whose head now rested on the pillow, which was on Warren's lap. "Getting comfortable for the movie?"

 

Slightly embarrassed, Remy realized that was lying down. When had that happened?

 

"Stay put, Rem." Warren kept Remy from getting to his feet and pulled up the quilt, which he'd thrown on the floor earlier. "Let's make sure we stay warm." After covering Remy's body with it, his hands tangled in the auburn hair and he rubbed Remy's back. "How's the side?"

 

"Bien," Remy whispered very softly. He quavered at Warren's touch. " Are you 'kay wid dis?" Remy asked hesitantly, remembering Warren's reluctance to touch him.

 

"I'm fine…" Warren fingered a silk lock. "Now shut up, movie is about to start!"

 

Remy smiled, drew in a deep breath and wished that this moment would never end!

 

///

 

Worried, Warren addressed his love. "Rem?" He'd completely forgotten that one of the main characters in the movies died in the freezing water. Remy shivered underneath his fingertips and Warren tried to peek at the red on black eyes. Warren blamed himself for choosing this movie. It was obviously bringing back bad memories and upsetting the Cajun. Saying, "The movie has a happy ending," was all Warren could think of.

 

"It's just…" Remy hesitated… "I remember de cold."

 

"I'm so sorry," Warren offered sincerely. I wish I'd returned to get you out of there. The guilt would never leave him. He pulled Remy close and placed a kiss on the locks. "You survived."

 

Remy didn't reply, intrigued by the sudden twist in the movie when they returned to the present and showed Rose as an old woman. "Happy end?" he asked hopefully.

 

"Yeah, just watch." Saddened by his own failure back in Antarctica Warren wondered how Remy would react when the Cajun remembered Warren's part in the trial.

 

They remained quiet for a few minutes, simply enjoying the end of the movie. Remy relaxed, realizing the movie had a happy end indeed. "Good movie…"

 

"Yeah, I understand now what the fuss was about," Warren whispered, checking the time, 22.00. "Want to turn in early, Rem? We could use some extra sleep." It'd been such a relaxed evening that hopefully all nightmares had been chased away.

 

"I'm not sure I can sleep yet." Remy struggled back into a sitting position.

 

"Okay…" Warren said tentatively and got Remy's meds. "Here, take them." As he watched Remy swallow the meds, Warren wondered what would make this evening truly perfect. Remy's questioning look made him think harder. "Go upstairs and change into warm clothes; boots, coat, sweater…"

 

"We're goin' outside?" Remy's brow grew furrowed. " I t'ought you wanted to keep me locked up here?"

 

"Is your side bothering you?" Warren inquired, just to make sure that he could proceed with his plan.

 

"Side's just bien," Remy replied mystified. The enforced rest really helped.

 

"Get changed…" Warren dragged Remy upstairs, shooed him into his bedroom and then headed for his own room, where his clothes were.

 

"Why?" Remy called out from his room. Quickly, Remy looked outside of the window. It looked like it was near freezing point, so he decided to add another sweater and put on a second pair of socks before slipping into his boots. "What are you up to?" Not knowing what would happen thrilled Remy. He trusted Warren completely and judging by his love's eyes, Warren was up to something unexpected!

 

Warren strolled into Remy's room, checking his love's clothing. "Are you sure you won't be cold?"

 

"I'm sure… now tell me!" Remy nearly exploded with curiosity.

 

"In a moment, Rem," Warren said, refusing to give in just yet. Color had returned to Remy's face and Warren loved seeing the sparkle in those eyes. "Let's go outside then."

 

Remy followed Warren, puzzled and curious. "We goin' for a walk, ange?" He felt strong enough for that, but hoped that it wouldn't last longer than an hour max. The last thing he wanted was to pass out during a walk.

 

Warren opened the door and gestured Remy to step outside as well. He locked the door and smiled at his love. "Come here, Rem."

 

Moving hesitantly, Remy walked up to Warren, uncertain what to expect. "It's cold."

 

"It's going to get even colder," Warren warned Remy. "Get behind me," he instructed and spread his wings. He'd almost forgotten the thrill of feeling air moving through his feathers. It'd been a while since he'd flown… the sniper had injured his back and wing, but the wound had healed and he felt strong again.

 

Puzzled, Remy did as he was told and settled down between the magnificent white wings.

 

"Put your arms around my waist," Warren said gently and quickly claimed Remy's hands as they clasped in front of him.

 

Remy was lost, staring at the soft feathers, the strong wings. He'd seen Warren in flight, taking out opponents or flying for the mere joy of it. He was about to ask what this was about as Warren's wings stirred to life.

 

"Hold on, love," Warren quipped as their feet lost contact with the ground. "I hope you want to go flying with me, Rem…"

 

Choked up, Remy could only nod his head in Warren's neck. He tightly held on to the body in front of him.

 

After they'd reached a comfortable height Warren manoeuvred them in a horizontal position, so Remy rested against his back. Warren was scared to ask whether Remy was okay with this.

 

Remy however, was completely lost in this unexpected sensation. White feathers surrounded him, keeping him close, taking him higher and making him feel safe. He didn't look down, as those white feathers continued to fascinate him. Curiously, his hands moved over the bone that sprung from Warren's back. This was a dream come true. He'd never told anyone, not even Stormy, but he'd loved to fly and he'd always dreamed that an angel would take him to the heavens.

 

"Rem?" Warren whispered quietly, approaching a small lake. "I'm not scaring you, am I?" Maybe he should have asked if Remy had wanted to go flying with him in the first place.

 

"Lovin' it," Remy mumbled, fascinated by the perpetual movement of the wings, carrying them further. "It's always been one of my secret fantasies…" Tenderly, he nuzzled Warren's neck, pressed his lips against the blue skin. "Merci, ange."

 

Swallowing hard, Warren tried to think up an answer. But the moment was too perfect in time to spoil wiith words. He concentrated on the Cajun, resting on his back and Warren caressed the cold hands around his waist. "Do you want to go back or…?"

 

"Keep flyin'? Just a little longer?" Remy requested softly. He cocked his head and rested it on Warren's back, losing himself as he stared at the wings.

 

///

 

Fifteen minutes later, Warren returned to the house. Remy's steady breathing assured him that the Cajun was almost asleep. He landed gently, turned around and lifted his love in his arms. After tucking his wings away, Warren unlocked the door and carried his precious load upstairs. But this time Warren didn't plan on sleeping separately. He wanted to hold Remy in his sleep.

 

"Ange?" Sleepy eyes opened and focused on his angel. "I'm sorry… mais I'm tired."

 

"You still need a lot of rest. Let me get you in some sweats and then we'll turn in."

 

"You'll stay de night?" A pleading hand rose to Warren's face. "Please stay."

 

"I will," Warren promised and slowly peeled all layers of clothing off Remy's body. A little relieved, Warren noticed that the Cajun's skin felt warm and not cold. "I'm going to tuck you in, love… I'll join you in a sec."

 

Remy was already asleep, contentedly dozing in bed. Warren pulled up the covers and then slipped into some sweats himself. He went downstairs to make sure that the door was locked, the TV switched off and then he opened his laptop. Pleased, he noticed that Jean-Luc had written back. "I'll tell Remy in the morning…" Warren remembered Remy's words, clearly stating that the Cajun didn't expect Jean-Luc to reply. Smiling, Warren returned to their bedroom and studied Remy's face, lost in sleep. "Maybe I should always take you flying before turning in. It works even better than those sleeping meds, which… damn! I forget about them!"

 

But Remy was peacefully asleep and Warren couldn't bring himself to wake his love. Instead, he slipped under the covers and gathered Remy in his arms. The Cajun immediately snuggled up to him. They settled into the same position as last night, facing each other, holding the other close. Warren pushed a stray lock out of Remy's face and placed one surprisingly gentle kiss on the Cajun's brow. "Have some sweet dreams, Rem." Briefly, he startled as Remy moaned, but then he realized what had happened, feeling his lover's hard-on pressed against his thigh.

 

A smile curled Warren's lips. "You better be dreaming of me, Rem." And no, he wouldn't mind having an erotic dream featuring Remy. "Maybe I'll get lucky," Warren whispered into Remy's ear. He closed his eyes and followed his love into the world of dreams.

 

///

 

"Uh… what? Rem?" Warren's eyes flashed open, alarmed by the frantic movement against his chest. Remy was kicking, trying to free himself of the embrace. Warren let go at once, determined not to add to Remy's panic.

 

Remy didn't know when the nightmare had started or what had caused it. He only knew that he was back in the Morlock tunnels, witnessing a truly horrific scene. The Marauders moved in, but this time the Morlocks weren't the target. It was Warren.

 

"Non!" Remy screamed petrified. How had they ever managed to get Warren shackled to the wall and why were his wings so… lifeless…damaged… bruised. "Non, don'!" Remy screamed as Harpoon moved in closer. "Leave him 'lone!"

 

"Rem?" Completely awake, Warren tried to think of a plan of action. "Remy, wake up. It's another nightmare!" Damn, he'd so hoped Remy could have one peaceful night. "Rem! Wake up!" This time his tone was more forceful and he gently shook Remy's shoulders. "Please, Rem."

 

Finally, the voice, the words registered and Remy's eyes opened. Terrified, he stared at Warren, still hearing the pain filled moans, knowing with certainty that the Marauders had hurt Warren's wings badly. "Merde!" Remy cursed, clutching his head between his hands. Warren's skin hadn't been blue in his nightmare! Another image flashes in Remy's mind. This time Warren's face was contorted with hate and anger and his wings were made of steel, releasing knife like objects from his wings. The blue eyes were bereft of all human compassion and flashed with darkness.

 

"Rem," Warren tried to reach Remy again. "It's only a nightmare. Please talk to me!" Warren wasn't sure how much more he could take. The nightmares only seemed to gain in intensity instead of growing less.

 

"Dey took your wings?" Remy asked bewildered, scared to hear the answer. "Harpoon, Arclight… Blockbuster…" Suddenly, the Marauders felt very close again. Panicking, he tried to crawl out of bed. "I put dem togeder, created dat team… and dey did dat to you? I did dat to you? I?"

 

A terrible pang of guilt flowed from the red eyes and Warren drew in a deep breath, recomposing himself. Warren had mentally prepared himself to deal with this moment, with the memories… with Remy's sense of guilt. In a calm tone he said, "Yes, they injured my wings, Rem."

 

"I'm sorry, so sorry," Remy whispered over and over again. "So sorry…"

 

"Remy." Warren reached out carefully, slowly moving closer to his love. "The Marauders did that, not you. Never you. Please look at me." His heart beat frantically, hoping Remy trusted him enough to do this. "Look at me, love."

 

Remy looked up, drawn closer because of the tone that mirrored so much love.

 

"Listen closely. The Marauders injured my wings, yes. You had no part in that. A supposed friend of mine ordered them amputated and… Shit." Remy froze in his arms. "You didn't remember that yet?"

 

"I saw you wid metal wings." Remy said in an emotionless tone.

 

"That happened after I lost my wings. Do you remember me telling you about Apocalypse when we were stuck in the cathedral?" Taking Remy's nod as a yes, he continued, "Apocalypse messed with my mind and I ended up working for him. He made me into of his instruments."

 

"Deat'," Remy whispered, voice bereft of emotion. "De metal wings."

 

"Yes." The fact that Remy had calmed down a little, reassured Warren that the Cajun was listening. "I still have nightmares about that time as well. But please believe me, Remy. You carry no blame. Don't feel guilty. Please. I can't look into your eyes, knowing you blame yourself. I want to look into your eyes and only see love."

 

Remy stared into his blue orbs and noticed the determination in them. "You don' blame me?" Remy asked hesitantly, doubt and hope fighting in his mind.

 

"I blame the Marauders. I blame Hodge. I don't blame you." Warren released a strangled breath as some of the panic lessened in Remy's eyes. "Let me guide you through this, Rem. You still don't remember everything." He refused to let guilt rule his love's life. "It wasn't your fault, Remy. You're not to blame," Warren whispered gently. "Come here…" and he pulled Remy back into his arms. "I love you. I don’t hate you. I don't blame you. I love you, Rem. Love you…"

 

Remy relaxed under the reassurance. "You were in so much pain… in my dream…" he clarified. "I can' bear it to see you in pain."

 

Warren smiled. "And I don't want you to be in pain either, so let go of that guilt, Remy. You're not to blame for what they did." Then he wickedly resorted to the one thing that seemed to reassure Remy best. "I love you," Warren whispered and brushed soft lips. "Love you, Remy. I love you."

 

"You're a romantic…" Remy whispered at a loss, relishing the feel of Warren's fingers moving through his hair, over his back. Lips gently brushed his, instigating a tender kiss. Involuntarily, his hands attempted to slip underneath Warren's sweats.

 

"You're on forbidden turf, Cajun," Warren admonished Remy, wanting nothing more than let Remy touch his bare skin, but not now. Not under these circumstances. Not while Remy was still hurting.

 

A hesitant smile surfaced on Remy's face as Warren twined their fingers tightly. He rested his head against Warren's chest, sensing the heartbeat underneath the sweats. "Say it 'gain?"

 

And Warren knew what Remy was asking, wanting nothing more in the world than to give it to him. "I love you, Remy. Love you."

 

"Je t'aime," Remy whispered, settling back in to the embrace. Warren had done a great job. Remy was actually considering that he'd overreacted. Maybe Warren was right and Remy wasn't to blame for the loss of those majestic wings. Maybe if his love told him as many times as he needed to hear it, he would believe it.

 

It was the most amazing thing, but Warren understood instinctively. "You're not to blame, Rem. I love you…" and he whispered the words until Remy dozed off again. "You are not to blame," Warren said again once Remy was asleep. "You're not." Hopefully Remy would stop tormenting himself. Warren had hoped that he would be there once Remy's memory surfaced, so he could take the sting away from them, reassuring Remy, giving the guilt no chance to flourish. Listening to Remy's breathing, Warren calmed down, centering himself. He knew the worst was still to come…

 

///

 

Moscow

 

"Ya know where to find the bastard?" Logan stared out of the window. It was snowing outside and a cold wind blew fiercely. 

 

Jean-Luc got up from the bed after taking a short nap. He hadn't slept this well in years. 48 Hours ago he'd officially resigned as patriarch, handing his power over to Marceaux. A gigantic burden had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in 80 years he felt free. "I think so. But we have to move carefully. Mattie sent him a message, telling him that I want to speak to him. We could be walking into a trap." Jean-Luc came to a stand still behind Logan and wrapped a casual arm around the Canadian's waist. "Did I already tell you how much I appreciate it dat you came along?" Jean-Luc still struggled with the growing closeness, an emotional closeness he hadn't felt for decades. Maybe this was the first time ever that he really felt it. I'm too old for dis.

 

"I'm not lettin' ya do this on yer own." Logan leaned back into the embrace, realizing that they needed to discuss their relationship in depth later.

 

"We've got to leave now or we will be late," Jean-Luc informed Logan. "And please… let me do de talking should we find him."

 

Logan's claws popped out. "I don't plan on doin' much talkin'."

 

"That's my point exactly," Jean-Luc sighed, but understood Logan only too well. He grabbed his coat and opened the door. "I want answers…"

 

Logan gave him a dark grin. "I just want his guts…"

 

Jean-Luc wasn't sure whether to laugh or to take the remark seriously, but he did feel a lot more confident confronting the old sorcerer with Logan at his side.

 

The door slammed shut and unknown to them a shadow freed itself from the walls, fleeing the room through a window…

 

///

 

Ireland

 

The gentle tapping of rain against their window woke Remy from a surprisingly peaceful sleep. Remy shivered as he remembered the nightmares, but the echo of Warren's words reassured him and drove the shadows of doubt away. 'Love you, Rem. I love you.' Those were the most beautiful words he had ever heard spoken in that tone. Only Jean-Luc's words came close.

 

He kept his eyes shut, trying to lock out reality, unwilling to return to a world filled with pained memories. But in the end, Remy lost and reluctantly opened his eyes, feeling Warren's warm body close to him. But then his breath caught. During his sleep, Warren had covered them with his wings. Feathers hovered all around him, touching his skin and Warren's fingers were still tightly twined with his. "Mon Dieu," Remy whispered taken aback. "To 'wake in de arms of an ange…" was something that blew his mind away. Had he ever felt this safe, this cherished before?

 

Never.

 

Exploratory, Remy slightly cocked his head so his cheek brushed the soft feathers. Only a few hours ago those wings had taken him high into the sky. Breathlessly, he snuggled closer, as close as he could get to those wings, to the man in his arms.

 

The movement woke Warren, who slowly opened his eyes. Briefly, he was scared that Remy was having another nightmare, but as he noticed the stunned grin on the Cajun's face, Warren relaxed. It looked like he'd finally found a way to shut Remy up efficiently. He should have realized his advantage a long time ago.

 

"Did you sleep well?" Remy inquired softly, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do to make his hard-on go away. Damn Warren for wanting to take this slow! Remy had needs, sexual needs and Warren was determined to make him beg! Well, maybe he could persuade Warren to loosen up a bit. The sexual tension was killing him!

 

"Remy, we talked about this earlier," Warren admonished him as Remy rubbed his body against Warren's thigh. All thoughts of discussing the nightmares and taking things slow fled, as a thief's agile fingers sneaked closer to his waistband. Warren had a morning erection as well, but he was damned if he let Remy do this! "Not yet, love."

 

"Please?" Remy whispered sensually, but groaned in disappointment as Warren slapped his hand away. How could he explain to Warren that he was okay with taking the next step? Maybe he just needed to speak the words aloud, to reassure his lover? "Can we…. You know… like take de next step? I want to touch you… I'll behave," Remy promised, trying to look as dedicated as he could. "I'll respect your wishes…"

 

Warren was tempted, sorely tempted, but felt uncomfortable. It was too early… but perhaps they could compromise? "Why don't you touch yourself for me? I've got this feeling I might come from just watching you…" Nervously, Warren stared into Remy's eyes, which shone mischievously. Yeah, maybe this would work. This way Remy was in charge of their actions.

 

"Touch myself? You want me to touch myself for you? Are you goin' to do de same t'ing for me?" Remy asked wickedly. Oh, how cute! Warren actually blushed crimson red! "I'll do it if you do it!" Remy announced fiercely. "Or we'll bod be stuck wid blue balls!"

 

"I can't argue that," Warren grumbled thoughtfully. Hopefully, he hadn't made the wrong decision. "Do you want to go first?"

 

Remy chuckled, feeling incredibly giddy and excited. This reminded him of being a teenager… the insecurity… the curiosity… first touches. "I trust you," he admitted in a light tone and it was the truth. "You'll never hurt me."

 

"Never," Warren groaned his reassurance. He watched closely as Remy's hands slipped down the sweat pants to release his throbbing erection from its confines. "What the hell are we doing?" Warren whispered, suddenly terrified at taking this step towards more intimacy.

 

"Cher," Remy whispered, understanding the doubt and hesitance Warren felt. He'd known for years that he was attracted to men, but he understood nonetheless. He remembered showing his vulnerability to his first lover… only that lover had dumped him a few days later. It was the story of his life, but Warren was different. Warren wanted, needed, loved him for the right reasons. Only now Remy allowed that truth in. With Warren things would be different. And that was why he could take the lead, could guide Warren through this. "Cher, don' t'ink, just feel…"

 

Warren quavered and a delightful moan of passion fled the Cajun's lips, as Remy stroked himself, slowly, tightly. Swallowing hard, Warren's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. Every time he thought he'd figured Remy out, the Cajun proved him wrong again. "Are you okay with this?" God, he didn't want to pressure Remy. But it was the most erotic scene he'd ever seen.

 

"I want dis," Remy whispered sensually, "need dis, will show you." The words came slowly, as he focused on Warren's big blue eyes. Fisting himself, Remy wantonly flaunted his want, proving his desire. "It'd be easier if I could touch you," Remy whispered pleadingly.

 

"No way!" Warren stated determinedly and suddenly realized that his own hands had slipped passed his waistband. Damn, he was hard, already dripping pre-ejaculate and he knew he could come without touching himself. Just looking at Remy made him come. "Pinch your nipple for me?" Warren whispered and then bit his lip. He'd never wanted to speak the words aloud!

 

"Mais oui, cher… for you I'd do everyt'ing," Remy whispered naughtily and indulged his lover. Warren's whimper went straight to his groin. "T'row back your head for me? Would love to see dat…" Remy whispered. His hand was slick with pre-ejaculate and he was dying to touch Warren, to bring him to orgasm, to do this for his love. But Warren wouldn't let him and Remy had to accept that.

 

Warren quivered, as orgasm built, ecstasy dripping into his bones and he threw back his head.

 

"Spread your wings? I love dose wings," Remy pleaded, stroking himself harder.

 

Warren spread his wings, moved them closer to Remy until the feathers touched the Cajun. Warren's brow now rested against Remy's, and both panted because of the unexpected experience. "One day I'll take you up into the sky and we'll make love there," Warren promised in blind passion, as his hand tightened around his pulsing cock. "Not yet…" He didn't want to come yet, but his hand slipped away as white cream erupted from the tip of his cock.

 

Remy licked his lips. "You needed dat bad!" he teased and surrendered to his own ecstasy while staring into Warren's blue eyes. He realized how special this moment was. He was doing this for himself and for Warren, but there was no pressure. It was strange, indulging himself for the mere pleasure of it. He wasn't doing this to make a lover stay, not doing this because someone had forced him to do it. Non, he did it because he wanted to do it, because Warren was comfortable with this, participating in it. And even more importantly, Warren allowed him to take the lead. It was amazing.

 

Warren grinned, looking down at the mess they'd made. Creamy come already stuck to the bed sheets. "Wow," he moaned and kissed Remy. "I could get used to doing this every morning."

 

"Only in de morning?" Remy quipped amused and then returned the kiss, slowly and passionately, wrapping an arm around Warren's waist, absentmindedly stroking the feathers underneath his fingertips.

 

"One of us has to clean up here," Warren sighed, feeling terribly relaxed now that most of the sexual tension was gone. Remy looked equally pleased. Okay, maybe this hadn't according to plan, but they'd both needed the sexual release. "And the other can fix breakfast."

 

Remy provocatively licked his lips. "You can deal wid de mess here… I'm startin' breakfast."

 

Before Warren could object, the Cajun had jumped out of bed. Remy quickly disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself up and then moved downstairs, softly humming to himself.

 

"Shit!" Warren cursed, pretending annoyance. "He's already bossing me around!"

 

In the kitchen, Remy smiled catching that last remark. "You got no idea de trouble you're in, ange!"

 

///

 

Seated at the breakfast table, they gave each other warm looks and every so often their hands touched when reaching for the butter, toast, or coffee. Warren enjoyed the little game, but decided that a little payback was in order. Remy had completely surprised him earlier this morning and Warren was still afraid that he was rushing things. He needed to slow down! But it was easier to think rationally now that his erection no longer tormented him.

 

"Don' worry, ange," Remy said, finally calm enough to speak without grinning manically. "I know you're scared to hurt me, mais… I feel safe wid you."

 

"Remy, I'm just concerned that… I don't want our relationship to be about sex."

 

"In case you hadn' noticed," Remy grinned wickedly, "if it were 'bout sex we would have jumped each oder dat first night."

 

Yeah, the manic grin was back and Warren sighed. "Okay, in that case I might be willing to tell you that you've got mail. Last night I noticed that Jean-Luc…" Amused, he watched Remy leave the table in a hurry to pick up the laptop. "You could finish breakfast with me first!" he said, pretending to be hurt by the sudden lack of interest on his lover's part. But he was overjoyed to see the fire in those red eyes as Remy accessed Jean-Luc's message.

 

Eyes unable to detach from the screen, Remy devoured the message. "He wrote back!" In disbelief, he read the message… Poppa had written back!!!!

 

> \-----Original Message-----

> From: J.LeBeau@NewOrleans.com

> Sent: Friday 12 January 2000 22:37

> To: WWorthington@Enterprises.com

> Subject: Bonjour petite 

 

Remy,

 

It's good to hear from you this soon! The house feels empty without you and tante is giving me hell for not keeping you locked up in your room until she arrived. She sends you her love, petite.

 

> Dearest poppa… we arrived safely. So far I've only seen the inside of the house. Warren is really overly protective, like you are.

 

Well, we can't help it, petite. You'll have to get used to us being that protective...

 

> Last night I had a terrible nightmare about… him. Will he ever stop haunting me?

 

He will. This thief promises you that it will end, Remy. It will.

 

> Poppa… I feel lost… but I have Warren and he's really supportive. Held me through the night and even called me love!

 

That's good to hear, son. You need someone close... Wish it had been me. Failed you again, my son. Mais, I am certain that Warren loves you and together the two of you will find a way to work through this.

 

> This morning we even kissed… after I freaked out. Warren went to get some groceries and I thought he had left me again. I was so stupid…

 

Non, not stupid, Remy! After all you've been through it's a very normal reaction. You need time to accept that Warren's there to stay.

 

> But… he still doesn't like touching me, poppa. I think it's the scars. Warren probably thinks about what the Antiquary did when touching me… It's strange though.

 

I doubt your observation is correct, Remy. The scars are only ugly in your mind, not his. And oui, maybe Warren sometimes thinks about the Antiquary... God help me, but so do I. I think about the pain he inflicted on you, but Warren won't blame you for those scars. Give Warren a little time to get used to being in love with a man, being in love with you, my son.

 

> I don't understand this. He hasn't even addressed having sex. Is that because he hates the scars? Why else? I know that you tried to explain to me that sex and love are two different things, but I still don't get it.

 

Give yourself time to understand, Remy. I approve of the fact that he's maintaining this distance. You always wanted to have sex for the wrong reasons, petite. Work on the relationship first...

 

> Sorry to bother you about this, poppa,

 

You won't ever bother me, Remy. You can always talk to me, always!

 

> but you're the only one who understands. I know that you're too busy to answer this message… That's okay. I just want you to know that I love you and am thinking about you.

 

I made time to answer this message and I'm going to make time to answer ALL your messages, Remy. Give this old thief a chance to make it up to you for past mistakes. Please don't take too long before replying, my son.

 

> Your son, Remy.

 

Your père, Jean-Luc.

 

The message left Remy stunned. Poppa had replied? Jean-Luc had made time to answer his message? That had never happened before! Why now? What had changed? What was Jean-Luc not telling him?

 

"Rem? Is it bad news?" Warren got to his feet and sat on his heels next to Remy. "You're scaring me here…" But as Remy's eyes finally met his, they were filled with laughter and relief.

 

"I can' believe dis," Remy whispered. Seeing disbelief in Warren's eyes Remy felt the need to explain. "Guild always comes first. Takes up all his time…"

 

"Maybe that changed? I take it then that it's good news?" Warren intertwined the fingers of their left hands and smiled warmly. "Are you going to write him back?"

 

"Oui, later… I need to think 'bout some stuff first… Poppa advised me not to… seduce you," and he wiggled an eyebrow, "into havin' sex. 'Bout what happened earlier…" Remy was about to apologize when Warren shook his head.

 

"That was hot, Remy and it was sweet. But it was sweet because you wanted to do that. We were both comfortable with taking that step, not pushing the other."

 

"Hot?" Remy quipped amused. "I wonder what you'll say when I tell you 'bout my fantasy."

 

"Fantasy?" Warren smiled warmly.

 

"Oui, and it involves a lot of chocolate and maybe even whipped cream!"

 

"Crazy Cajun!" Warren exclaimed and brushed Remy's lips. "You better take a shower. I also need to check on your wound. Maybe we can go for a short walk later?"

 

"I'd love dat," Remy agreed and let his hair fall in front of his face to hide his wicked grin. "Mais first I'm goin' to shower… you made a mess of me dis mornin'!"

 

Warren blushed, knowing it was the reaction Remy aimed for. "Bad Cajun," he countered, but the reply lacked real conviction. "I'll do the dishes and after you're done in the bathroom, I'm going to take a shower as well!"

 

"Or come and take dat shower wid me?" Remy offered quickly, giving Warren his most enchanting smile. He'd already forgotten about his promise not to seduce his new lover…

 

"Bad Cajun!" Warren quipped again and slapped Remy's butt as his lover got to his feet. "Don't tempt me! It's bad enough you got your wicked way with me this morning!"

 

"You didn' even touch me," Remy complained, but suddenly he realized what Warren was doing. Taking it one step at a time. The scars didn't disgust Warren. Warren wanted to make love to him and was more than willing to prove to Remy that it wasn't the most important thing in a relationship. Maybe, he should stop pushing Warren. Non, too much fun! And maybe, in the back of his mind he wanted Warren to prove he was for real first. With a smile, Remy left the kitchen and headed upstairs for the bathroom.

 

"And I'm stuck with cleaning up after him again!" Warren chuckled and shook his head, only now realizing he was in trouble… big trouble!

 

///

 

Moscow

 

"Ya sure this is the right place?" Logan studied the deserted building. It still possessed the former glory of old Russia.

 

"He's here," Jean-Luc assured Logan. The hair at the back of his neck stood rigid. "We have to be careful when going inside. Remember what I told you. De Antiquary can create illusions, which are hard to tell from de real thing. Stay close."

 

Logan eyed Jean-Luc questioningly. "What? Ya think I need a babysitter? Have been doin' this for decades!"

 

"So have I!" Jean-Luc countered and caught the approval in Logan's eyes. "Dis time, you listen to me!"

 

A low growl escaped Logan's throat. "Only this time… and there will be payback in the bedroom later."

 

"Get your mind out of de gutter, cher!" Jean-Luc shook his head and dropped to his knees to pick the lock.

 

"Don't bother." Logan released one claw and stuck it into the lock, then sliced right through it.

 

Annoyed, Jean-Luc looked up. "Finesse, mon ami! You lack finesse!"

 

"Brute force works too." Logan shrugged his shoulders and pushed the door ajar. "Whadda ya think, super brain. Is it safe to go inside?"

 

"Super brain?" Jean-Luc repeated. "Is dat all you can come up with?"

 

"Lemme think 'bout it," Logan replied softly and then set a first step inside. "No real scents…" He didn't like this one bit and the rest of his claws popped out, ready for battle.

 

"Logan," Jean-Luc admonished him and followed his lover inside. The hall was empty. "Dat way," his instincts told him.

 

"'Kay." Logan tried hard to pick up on anything that could tell him what was going on. "I don't like this…"

 

"I warned you." Jean-Luc looked up. The glass-stained windows created an eerie red reflection on the wall and suddenly a shadow fled the room. "He knows we're here." A long time ago, Stephen Strange had taught him how to distinguish magic from old tricks. This involved magic, real magic. Powerful magic.

 

Unexpectedly, two man-sized lions jumped forward, paws spread, ready to break their necks.

 

"They ain' real, bub," Logan said unimpressed. "They don't have a smell."

 

"Illusions," Jean-Luc quickly confirmed. "He's slipping." Now that they'd seen through the magic trick, the lions disappeared into thin air. "I want to talk to you, Antiquary."

 

Logan wanted to berate the man for betraying their location, but a sharp voice stopped him in his tracks.

 

"Why? You banished me a long time ago. What do you want, Jean-Luc LeBeau?"

 

A figure, clad in blue-green robes appeared on top of the flight of stairs, face hidden behind a hood. Logan tried to catch the man's scent, to store it in his memory, but was shocked to find none. Another illusion?

 

"You owe me some answers! You set me up that night 24 years ago! Why did you order me to steal a baby?" Although Jean-Luc was determined not to lose control, he was on the brink of crumbling now that he finally faced the man who'd hurt his son that badly.

 

Logan put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Thought ya wanted to talk to him?"

 

"Why Remy?" Jean-Luc questioned in a calmer tone, but it was a tone that could cut through steel.

 

"You fool! You don't know the true extent of his powers!" the Antiquary whispered venomously.

 

"Ya fear him…" Logan realized. "Ya were 'fraid he might become too strong to control, so ya wanted to break him as a child. Ya bastard!" He was dying to bury his claws in the Antiquary's chest. Maybe even twist them around a little to add to the man's agony.

 

"Dis makes no sense," Jean-Luc remarked absentmindedly. "If you'd stayed away from Remy, he'd never have known you existed."

 

"You don't know about the prophecy, thief and you don't need to know!"

 

"What prophecy?" Jean-Luc couldn't believe his ears. "I'm going up dere," he announced and found that Logan was behind him every step of the way. Only a few feet separated him from the Antiquary now. "What prophecy? I demand you…"

 

"You're not in the position to demand anything, thief!" The Antiquary moved back. "I suggest you stop threatening me, or I might punish the devil's child instead."

 

"Don't ya dare touch him ever 'gain!" Logan hissed in obvious disgust. "Leave the kid outta this!"

 

"How can I?" the Antiquary quipped. "You, Jean-Luc LeBeau started this. Leave me in peace or your son," and he spat the word in disgust, "will pay for your stupidity!"

 

"Bastard…" Jean-Luc hissed and no longer cared about the consequences. He had kept this anger bottled up for much too long and it needed a way out. So he lunged forward to clasp his hands around the Antiquary's throat.

 

Logan tried to stop Jean-Luc, to pull him back, but was too late. An all- consuming darkness swallowed them and they started to fall… falling… falling into nothingness.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Scott? Can we talk? Charles Xavier, leader of the X-Men, was worried. Scott had been acting oddly lately, spending too much time in the danger room and fleeing the presence of the others. Only Jean was allowed close.

 

"Of course, professor," Scott whispered resigned as the professor opened the door. This was one conversation he couldn't run away from. As the chair hovered into the room, Scott returned to the bed and sat down. "I just wanted to get some sleep, sir," he apologized. "I didn't sleep that well last night."

 

"Talk to me," Charles urged Scott on, slightly startled by Scott's appearance. Dark circles showed from beneath ruby glasses. "Why can't you sleep?"

 

Absentmindedly, Scott picked up the package he still hadn't opened and played around with it to distract himself. "It's Gambit, Antarctica, Rogue leaving him there. This isn't right, sir."

 

"I see." Charles nodded his head. "You think you failed Gambit."

 

"I did!" Scott exclaimed. "I did. I should have been there too. Should have returned to Antarctica earlier. I left a team-mate out there to die. I'm team-leader. I am responsible for their safety each time we leave on a mission!"

 

"You're only human," Charles sighed as he rested a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Humans make mistakes. Humans aren't perfect. I make mistakes, you make them and we'll make a lot more before we die."

 

Scott nodded his head. "I know that, sir, but I can't help it. I feel guilty." He tossed the package onto the bed and started pacing the room, every so often peeking at Charles' eyes. "I want to organize a memorial service. That will give us a chance to say good-bye. Jean misses him and I got this feeling there are more people who'd like to pay their last respects to the Cajun."

 

Charles forced himself to smile. "A memorial service sounds good. It'll give you and the rest of the team the closure you need." And me too. God, he'd never realized Scott felt this deeply about Antarctica! But Scott wasn't the only one blaming himself for Gambit's death. Last night, Hank and Charles had talked for hours. Hank suffered from guilt too. The scientist struggled with the same problem; why hadn't they went back to get Remy?

 

"What are we going to do about Rogue?" Scott asked in a firm tone.

 

Charles realized Scott's intentions. "You can't be suggesting a trial!"

 

"Why not?" Scott's jaw was set. "I want to know what happened after the others left and she isn't going to tell us. I informed you of how she reacted to Warren's questions. She's keeping her secrets, like always."

 

"No trial," Charles said determinedly. "But I'll talk to her privately."

 

"And Joseph?" Scott sighed deeply. "They have been arguing since Warren left."

 

"Joseph will make his own decisions," Charles pointed out to his student. "Now, why don't you join us for dinner?" He wanted Scott to socialize, to stop brooding. "Jean and Bobby made dinner."

 

"I'm bad company," Scott sighed resigned. "Just give me a sec to change my clothes, shave and clean up. I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes."

 

"Excellent!" Charles said pleased. Just before he turned to leave the room, he addressed Scott one more time. "The memorial service… we should do that this week. It's important that we can say good-bye."

 

"And Rogue? I'm not sure I want her there," Scott grumbled darkly.

 

"She's part of this team, Scott. They were lovers once. You can't leave her out."

 

Scott gave in. "Just don't let her create a scene… I'm not sure how I'll react."

 

"You feel betrayed," Charles realized suddenly. "Betrayed by Rogue."

 

"Yes, sir. I thought I could depend on her. Thought she put the team first, not her personal feelings… I should have known."

 

"Back to the guilt issue," Charles remarked disapprovingly. "Get cleaned up and join us for dinner," he ordered and closed the door behind him. Maybe this affected Scott more than he'd thought.

 

///

 

Scott shook his head. Dinner with the rest of the team… he wanted to be alone instead. Wanted to think about his mistakes, about the friends, loved ones and team-mates he'd lost. Remy LeBeau… true, they hadn't been the best of friends, but they'd gotten along just fine. He'd even admired the thief's skills, though he would never admit that aloud. Those skills had saved their butts a number of times and now there was an empty chair at the table. No one to play cards with… no one to harass at the pool table…

 

Part of him insisted that he overreacted, that this wasn't like him, but maybe this had been the final straw. Maybe he had reached his breaking point after so many deaths. This death was his fault.

 

His fingers once more located the package and after playing with it for several moments, he absentmindedly opened it.

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"It's strange…" Remy remarked, as he examined the deck of cards in his hands. Warren had suggested playing cards until the rain would stop. Then they would go for a walk. They'd been playing for two hours now. "I used to…" Remy searched for the right word, "charge and t'row dem?" Bit by bit his memories were coming back. But he still missed several memories concerning the trial.

 

"Yes, you're pretty good at using them," Warren confirmed and then looked worried at the remainders of Eric The Red's shackles. They had to address that trial and his part in it soon. He had decided that he wouldn't wait for the memories to return and scare Remy. He was only waiting for the right moment to tell Remy.

 

"You now owe me…" Remy studied the notes he'd made. "2.600.768 American dollars." A wicked grin graced Remy's face as he announced the amount of money. "You need more practise."

 

"You cheated," Warren countered amused, but decided to try and address a more serious matter. "When are you going to take the cuffs off?" Slowly, he pushed his chair closer to Remy's. Straddling it, Warren claimed his lover's hands and caressed the skin underneath the shackles, which felt a little tender. "They can't be comfortable."

 

Determinedly, Remy shook his head. "Ain' goin' to take dem off."

 

Warren raised a surprised eyebrow. "Care to explain that to me, Rem?" His fingers rubbed Remy's hands, kneading the tense muscles.

 

"Charm," Remy whispered the word, hoping it offered sufficient explanation.

 

Warren moved a little closer and with one hand he cupped Remy's chin in his palm, raising it. "Make me understand."

 

Unable to look away from those entrancing blue eyes, Remy took a deep breath. "What did poppa tell you 'bout de charm?" Remy was no fool, knowing darn well they'd discussed it.

 

Carefully, Warren chose his words, deciding not to mention the brainwashing the Antiquary had performed, making a child believe the charm had been responsible for being raped. Instead, he said, "Jean-Luc me that you used it to comfort your tante after one of her cousins died. That the air had been filled with the fragrance of flowers and the house with love. Now, why are you afraid of that power?"

 

"He didn' he tell you 'bout… de Antiquary and what de charm made him do?" Mon Dieu, Remy didn't want to explain this all over again. "You know 'bout… de nightmares."

 

"Remy," Warren took a deep breath and raised one of Remy's hands so his lips could tenderly brush Remy's skin. "The Antiquary didn't… hurt you because of the charm," Warren said resolved, holding onto Remy's gaze. The Cajun devoured every word. "He abused you because he wanted to break your spirit. Think about it. His actions made you so afraid of this mutant power you possess that you're terrified of ever using it!" Hopefully, he was getting through to Remy.

 

"I can' believe dat," Remy mumbled confused, eyes briefly avoiding his lover's.

 

"Rem, who came up with the name charm power?" Warren was determined to find a way to make Remy understand. "Was it the Antiquary?"

 

"Oui, said dat I was de devil's child and dat de charm seduces people," Remy choked out. "I tried so hard to keep it 'side, not to let it slip, mais dere were times when it did."

 

Warren realized that convincing Remy to let go would be hard, but he had to try. "So you learned to put up walls, defences to keep it inside?"

 

"Only slipped dat once wid tante… didn' care 'bout de consequences, just wanted to make her feel better." Remy's head slumped forward and he shivered as warm fingers gently caressed his face.

 

"Are you scared that you'll seduce me, make me hurt you, when you take them off? Is that it?" Warren ventured. At the same time his lips brushed the palm of his lover's hand.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted, finally losing his composure and started raving. "I don' remember… you see, I don' remember how I built dose walls, don' remember how to keep it 'side, will hurt you, will hurt me… it's safer dis way!"

 

"Rem…" Warren said soothingly and pulled Remy into an embrace. Remy didn't pull away and Warren tightened the hold. "I can never hurt you… I love you, remember…" As Remy didn't respond Warren continued. "So, all this time that you lived at the mansion, you kept this a secret?"

 

"Oui, couldn' let anyone find out." Remy rested his head on Warren's shoulder and snuggled up to him, wrapping his own arms around his lover's frame.

 

"Remy, I'm sorry, but I've got to ask this," Warren whispered nervously, bracing himself for Remy's reaction. "Do you remember Rogue?" It was a subject he dreaded and had tried to avoid, but Warren didn't want Remy in hysterics when the Cajun remembered her face during a nightmare.

 

"Rogue?" Remy lifted his head and locked eyes with Warren. A memory flashed in his mind. "Beautiful… mais wid cold eyes? White hair…?"

 

"Yes, that's Rogue," Warren refused to let Remy retreat, holding him tight. "Tell me what you remember about her."

 

Another memory surfaced. "I'm… in love wid her?" Remy said and his brow grew knitted. "She…" Then his voice faltered. He cocked his head and shivered violently. "She doesn' want me…"

 

"What are you remembering?" Warren pulled Remy onto his lap; ignoring the uncomfortable position they were in. Remy buried his face against his chest and Warren listened to the suddenly ragged breathing. "It's okay, Rem. You're safe and I love you."

 

"I'm wearing shackles… like now…" Remy explained, unable to walk away from this shattering nightmarish memory. "We're locked up? She's in my arms and… Mon Dieu… de trial… dis is before de trial started…"

 

"What happened?" Warren asked patiently. Following his instincts he rocked Remy slightly, having seen Jean-Luc do the same thing when Remy had been upset. He kissed the auburn hair and rested his cheek on Remy's head, which was now tucked safely under his chin.

 

"Our powers are gone," Remy remembered, tears building in his eyes, holding onto Warren for all the support he needed. "I asked her to make love wid me… would be our only chance… You got no idea how long it took me to work up dat much courage to ask her…" Remy flinched with remembered pain. There were too many memories, too many feelings, tangled together… a mess. He'd messed up… again.

 

Warren gritted his teeth, trying hard to control the sudden jealously he felt. He was jealous of Rogue who didn't deserve such a generous offer. Had she ever realized how special Remy was? How much that particular offer had meant? Remy's next words broke his heart.

 

"She refused… said she didn' want to have sex in captivity. Dat we would find a different way…" Remy could no longer contain the tears and they flowed freely over his face. "She didn' want me in dat way… why?" Tear-filled eyes lifted and found Warren's. "You're angry?" he suddenly realized, sensing the rage locked up in those blue eyes. Maybe confiding in Warren had been a mistake. This wasn't stuff one should share with a new lover.

 

Warren forced himself to calm down. She'd refused… Part of him felt relieved. "You never had sex with her?"

 

"Non, never. Why is dat important?" Remy pushed himself away from the confining embrace.

 

"It's stupid," Warren admitted and brushed Remy's brow with his lips. "I just feel that she isn't good enough for you. I'm… glad you didn't sleep with her."

 

Truly perplexed at this point, Remy could only stare at Warren. "What are you talking' 'bout? She loved me…" But that last statement lacked conviction. Something else clawed at his mind, another memory. Remy's voice shook with pain. "After de trial, after everyone left… left… left… she left me… left me… left…" he kept repeating the word, entranced and hurt.

 

Warren nodded his head. "She did. She left you there to die." Calmly, he waited for that truth to settle in. "She told us you died."

 

Remy remained quiet. "She left me? Why?" Why would she do that? She'd loved him, hadn't she?

 

"You'll have to ask her that when we return to the mansion," Warren said determinedly.

 

Remy tried to pull back, scramble to his feet, but Warren didn't release his hold. He was trapped. "Am not goin' back dere."

 

"Not now, Rem, later. Once you're healed we’re going to confront her." Warren stroked his lover's back in long, comforting strokes. "For your own sake, you'll have to face her, confront her about what happened and I'll be there with you every step of the way," he promised passionately. "Remy?" Worried, Warren cocked his head to catch Remy's glance. The red on black eyes were full of emotion. "Talk to me, love." Warren could hardly imagine the pain Remy was going through. "I'm here. You don't have to face this alone. What are you feeling?"

 

"Not'in'," Remy said in an emotionless tone. She'd left him, had left him there to die! "Just proves it…"

 

"Proves what? Apprehensively, Warren traced the outline of Remy's full lips. "Proves what, love?"

 

Stubbornly, Remy remained quiet.

 

"Proves what!" Warren pushed on in a firmer tone.

 

"I'm a traitor and don' deserve love… she knew dat, knew I killed de Warlocks, destroyed your wings and…"

 

Warren's first impulse was to react in anger! Damn! They'd been doing so well, making progress, finally trusting each other and now… "Stop it, Rem! Did you already forget the things I told you last night?"

 

Remy realized that he had to get away from Warren, who couldn't want him, a loser and a traitor. Warren would leave him, like Rogue had done did and he wasn't sure he could survive losing this man, his angel, again.

 

"Stay put, Cajun and listen to me!" Warren pulled Remy back when the Cajun tried to slip away. "Sit and listen!"

 

Remy flinched slightly at that tone. Here it came, the famous last words, which he'd heard too many times. 'I made a mistake… you'll find someone else… I'm not in love with you, man… enjoyed the ride… well, this is good-bye…' Warren was dumping him. "Mebbe I should just leave." But where could he go? New Orleans? Assassins were already waiting for him to show up again.

 

"Rem," Warren said in a remarkable soft tone, finally realizing what terrible conclusion Remy had reached. "You're no traitor. You didn't kill the Morlocks. You're not to blame for the loss of my wings. Rogue played you. Played with you like a cat plays with a mouse before going in for the kill. Please, Rem, look at me."

 

Remy obeyed mechanically, hardly hearing Warren's voice. Dis was too good to be true. Should have known dat I don' get dat lucky… But as he finally met Warren's eyes, Remy startled. There was no loathing, hate or condemnation in those eyes. Mon Dieu, they sparkled with love!

 

"Rogue doesn't deserve your love. She betrayed you. I love you, Remy. I'll always be there for you. You have no idea what I feel for you. At first I hated being attracted to a man… Listen!" Warren yelped as Remy struggled to free himself again. "Listen," he repeated much calmer. "Now I can't envision living without you. I love you, Remy LeBeau."

 

Remy's eyes grew big at that admission. Oui, Warren had declared his love several times, but… "You ain' dumping me?" he asked confused.

 

"Rogue messed you up pretty bad, love. You thought she loved you. My guess is she didn't. Rem, think about it! She can't touch bare skin. That night in the citadel, before the trial, she could touch you. Could make love to you and she passed it up? Damn, if that had been me I would have made love to you until they dragged me away." Warren sighed relieved. Remy's big eyes mirrored disbelief and hope, a stunning amount of hope. "I'd even use those shackles or a Genoshan collar if that meant making love to you, Rem." Warren panted slightly after this passionate admission. Damn, he hadn't realized himself how much he loved the Cajun until just now, how much he wanted to make love to this man.

 

"Tell me somet'in'?" Remy had stopped struggling several moments ago and was now holding on tightly. "Do you really love me?"

 

"Oh yes," Warren quipped and placed a teasing kiss on the tip of his lover's nose.

 

"When did you realize dat?" Remy smiled weakly. Suddenly, Rogue wasn't that important any more. Her betrayal stung, but Warren's love acted like a warm blanket, healing the frostbite she'd left behind.

 

"When?" Warren grinned, actually thinking this over. "I guess I realized I loved you when you took that knife, which was meant for me. When you went down." Warren's voice trembled with remembered fear. "I was so afraid of losing you, Rem. When your dad picked us up I refused to let him hold you. Ticked him off…" Pleased, he noticed that Remy's smile was getting warmer; Remy's eyes no longer betrayed panic.

 

"Oui, must have ticked poppa off," Remy repeated entranced. "Why did you leave me?"

 

"I wasn't ready to accept the truth yet. Hey, I've never been in love with a man before and certainly not with a crazy Cajun. I needed time to get to terms with it. It was the hardest thing I ever did, leaving you, but I couldn't stay."

 

"Why did you come back?" The questions easily rolled off Remy's lips. He'd heard the answers before, but he needed to hear them again.

 

"As I said before, Bobby kicked my ass and when I saw Rogue…"

 

"You defended me," Remy suddenly remembered.

 

"She maintained that you had been dead when she'd left you. I was determined to uncover her lies. She didn’t like that."

 

Remy sighed deeply. "She doesn' love me, does she?"

 

"I'm afraid not, Rem." Warren's fingers trailed up his lover's back, until they reached the back of Remy's neck where they started a gentle massage. "She's taken Joseph as her new lover," Warren whispered, dreading Remy's reaction. But the Cajun remained limp in his arms.

 

"I hope dey'll be happy."

 

"How can you say that?" Warren lowered his head so he could look into Remy's eyes.

 

"Now dat I've got you… she isn' 'lone eider… is good." Remy felt emotionally drained. "Are you sure you want to be wid me?" he asked hesitantly. Remy wanted to believe in Warren's love so badly!

 

"Yeah, I want you, Rem… for now and the rest of our lives." Warren smiled and kissed his lover's watered eyes. "I want to make you happy."

 

"You already do," Remy confessed. "Got to move… side hurts," he whispered and Warren immediately released him. As Remy got to his feet, he noticed that the rain had stopped. He had to get out of this house. Suddenly, he was suffocating here. "Can we go for dat walk now?"

 

Warren gave Remy a quizzical look. "Rem? Are you okay?"

 

"I need time to… deal wid dis…" Remy reassured Warren. Rogue had betrayed him… Warren loved him. It was as simple as that.

 

Warren realized the emotional turmoil lover was in. "What do you think, Rem? We'll walk up to that lake we saw yesterday and I'll fly you back?" The stunning smile that greeted him baffles Warren. "I take it that's a yes?"

 

"Just let me get my coat…" Remy was already moving, when two strong arms folded around his waist. Smiling, he looked over his shoulder. "Ange?"

 

"Don't you ever forget how much I love you, Rem," Warren said as he nuzzled the Cajun's skin.

 

Another tear escaped his eye, but this time, bliss causes it and not pain. "Je t'aime, Warren," Remy declared in turn, promising himself he'd try and make this man happy. He wanted this to work and no one would stand between them!

 

"Don't forget my coat," Warren reminded Remy and dropped onto the chair again. Man, that had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done, talking Remy through that and it still amazed him that he'd succeeded. "I was really scared I was going to lose him," Warren admitted in a whispering tone. Although this wasn't over yet, he now felt a lot more confident about their relationship. "He just needs to hear it a lot…"

 

"Hear what?" Remy stood in front of Warren, holding their coats.

 

Smiling, Warren rose from the chair, looked Remy in the eyes and said, " That I love you." Amused, he watched as a deep blush crawled over Remy's face.

 

"You say dat all de time," Remy whispered nervously.

 

"Because I need to get it out, Rem. I feel like I want to scream it at the mountains… maybe I'll do that on our way back." Warren helped Remy slip into the coat and buttoned it up. "Does your side still hurt?"

 

"It was just de awkward position," Remy said softly. "We're really goin' to fly back?"

 

"Yeah," Warren confirmed and took Remy's right hand. "C'mon, or it will start to rain again before we can get back."

 

Remy allowed Warren to pull him along, equally excited of going outside.

 

///

 

"It's beautiful up here," Warren said and looked at Remy, who sat next to him on a large rock. It'd taken them longer than expected to get here and it had grown dark around them. A full moon illuminated the sky.

 

"Oui, it is," Remy agreed and couldn't help noticing that their fingers were still twined. "You know… I'm startin' to believe it."

 

"What?"

 

"Dat you… you know, dat you love me," Remy said awkwardly, lowering his eyes. "Took me years to believe tante and poppa."

 

"And I did it in weeks?" Warren smiled warmly. "Want to kiss you," he admitted. "Can I?"

 

"Sure." Remy leaned in closer and kissed his lover's lips, surprised at how willingly Warren parted his teeth to let Remy's tongue slid inside. Their tongues engaged in a lazy duel and Warren pulled him closer. Remy looked up questioningly. "Why do you always ask if you can kiss me?" This really puzzled him.

 

This time, Warren smiled nervously. "I want your permission, Remy. I don't want you to feel pressured into doing something you're not comfortable with."

 

"I kinda understand dat we need to take dis slow." Remy noticed the pleased expression on Warren's face. "You're probably right 'bout dat."

 

"And how did you reach this insight?" Warren remarked teasingly, dropping tiny kisses on the back of Remy's hand. All his doubts had disappeared. His hesitance to touch another man had vanished. This was right. This had been meant to be.

 

Remy licked his lips. Seemed like this an evening for revelations. "De t'ings he… de Antiquary did to me are very close right now. Poppa helped me work t'rough dem before, mais now it feels like dey happened only weeks ago… You're right. I need time to remember dat I dealt wid dem. How I dealt wid dem, mais…" and Remy gave Warren a warning look, "Don' treat me like…"

 

"Like what?" However, Warren was getting the picture.

 

"Like I'm an invalid…." Remy whispered at last, at a loss for the right words, "Like I'm made of precious china… I won' break."

 

"I get the message," Warren said, hardly able to hide his approval. Remy was growing stronger, demanding Warren stopped protecting him, but how could Warren do that? He wanted to keep Remy safe, loves him too much to take changes.

 

"Can we fly back now?" Remy slowly got to his feet and this time, he pulled Warren along and got behind him. Remy wrapped his arms around the waist, waiting for his love to spread his wings. "I'm tired."

 

And he wants me to stop pampering him! Warren shook his head. Remy needed pampering, demanded to be spoiled after all the Cajun had been through. As Warren spread his wings, he drew in a deep breath. "Are you ready?" Warren inquired.

 

"Oui," Remy rested his head against the back of Warren's neck, waiting to feel the wind tangle in his hair when they both registered a wincing growl. "What's dat?"

 

"It sounds like an animal in pain," Warren cocked his head. "It's coming from over there. Want to check it out?"

 

"Mebbe we can help," Remy replied and reluctantly released his lover. Fingers still twined, they concentrated on the soft, pain-filled grows. "Dog?" Remy ventured as they got closer. A greyish shape was curled up next to a large rock.

 

"Big dog," Warren said concerned. His sharp eyes scanned the form. "Uh, Rem? It's a wolf… and he's injured. I see blood." A wolf? He hadn't even known that there were wolves running free in Ireland!

 

"Blood?" Remy approached slowly, giving the wolf time to register his presence. Warren walked next to him, obviously reluctant to go any further.

 

Sharp teeth flashed in the moonlight and the growls deepened in warning.

 

"Rem? I don't think he wants us to get any closer." Warren stopped in his tracks, as the wolf's eyes flashed dangerously. "You know that wounded animals are dangerous animals?"

 

"He needs help," Remy pointed out. "We can' leave him here." His eyes now made out the blood, but Remy also saw the way the wolf's right front leg was twisted. "We've got to help."

 

"Okay," Warren gave in eventually and sneaked closer. "Now, behave, boy," He said, addressing the wolf. "We just want to help." Slowly, he extended one hand, trying to examine the seriousness of the injury.

 

The wolf lunged forward, almost taking off Warren's hand. Warren felt Remy's arm around him, pulling him back. "Thanks," he whispered and stared at his fingers, still in place. "He won't let us near." Then, he noticed the way Remy stared at the animal. Yes, Warren understood why Remy had to help. Someone had abandoned Remy too when he'd needed help. Suddenly, an idea formed in Warren's mind.

 

"Remy?" Rem!" Warren whispered, recognizing the lost expression in his lover's eyes.

 

"Oui?"

 

"Do you think you can work your magic on him, like you did with your tante?" Warren studied Remy closely, seeing the shocked expression in his red on black eyes. "You know, take off the shackles and reach out to calm him? I think you can do that."

 

"Cher… I can'," Remy objected in a pained tone. "Don' know how to control it. Charm will break free."

 

"Let's agree on not calling it that any longer," Warren sat on his heels, grateful that the wolf wasn't moving to attack them. "Let's call it magic. Your magic."

 

"You're mad, cher," Remy shivered, speaking the words. Something the Antiquary had once said, bounced back into his mind. 'Your magic will never grow strong. Will never revel mine!' Warren couldn't be serious, couldn't ask this of him!

 

"Please do it, Rem. I'm here to protect you if things go wrong." Warren gently squeezed Remy's fingers. "You've got to trust me."

 

"If I take dem off, you will… you will…"

 

"I won't sexually assault you, love. The Antiquary lied. You've got to put your trust in me, in us." But Remy was obviously not yet convinced so Warren added his trump. "You want to help the wolf, don't you? He won't allow us close."

 

"You don't play fair, cher."

 

"Never said I did." Warren watched Remy's inner turmoil, reflected in those alien eyes.

 

Remy's head was spinning. Warren was asking him to take the shackles off! That would destroy everything they'd achieved this far! Warren would change into the Antiquary, unable to control his lust because of the charm… but a tiny voice berated Remy, telling him that Warren would never hurt him. "I trust you," Remy whispered eventually and he couldn't believe he was doing this as he extended his hands. "Take dem off."

 

Warren nodded his head, touched by his love's trust in him. Warren fumbled briefly, then bent the shackles and removed them.

 

Remy stared at the shackles and frantically picked them up, putting them in his pockets. He wanted them close in case Warren… Please mon Dieu, let him be strong enough to resist de charm. He felt it all around him, as he desperately tried to remember how to build his shields, but that knowledge was gone.

 

Surprised, Warren stared at his lover. Remy had changed. Something about Remy had changed the moment Warren had taken off those shackles. That hair… it's like silk… the skin, like ivory, still pale from the lack for sunlight and those eyes… Suddenly, Warren grew aware of the heavy flowery fragrance around them. It took Warren a moment to identify the fragrance. Lilacs. Warren had forgotten about the wolf, eyes focused on his lover and Warren tried to phrase what he felt, knowing it was important to Remy. "You're beautiful, love."

 

Remy cringed, this is what he'd been afraid of all along. 

 

"No, don't," Warren admonished Remy, reclaiming his hand. "I don't feel the urge to jump you, Rem. It's just… you look…surreal… like an angel."

 

The words unleashed something inside Remy. "You don'…"

 

"No, I don't." Warren smiled. "The Antiquary lied."

 

Remy released the breath he had been holding. Warren's reaction wasn't what he'd expected. What had he expected? That Warren would jump and take him right here? A warm hand caressed his face and hesitantly Remy leaned into it.

 

"You smell of lilacs, Rem and…" Warren smiled and placed one gentle kiss on his lover's lips. "The wolf stopped growling."

 

Surprised, Remy looked at the wounded canine. It's true. "You t'ink I can…."

 

"Talk to him, make him feel at ease. We'll take him home and tomorrow morning we'll take him to the vet… who'll have a stroke seeing his patient." Fascinated, Warren devoured every move his lover made.

 

Hesitantly, Remy walked towards the wolf. "I'm goin' to help you, mon ami. We won' hurt you," and Remy kept repeating the words. Dazed, the wolf looked up at him, whimpered and then tried to rest his head between his paws.

 

"That's it, Rem… Can you pick him up?" Warren took a step closer too, just in case Remy needed help.

 

Remy lowered himself onto his heels and extended his hand so the wolf could memorize his scent. "You see, mon ami? We're here to help." As he touched the front leg another whimper escaped the animal. "Ange? I t'ink he walked into a trap."

 

"Here." Warren uncovered a clean handkerchief and handed it to his lover. "Wrap that around his paw. Looks like he's been laying here for quite some time. He needs food and water."

 

Remy tried hard to be gentle when wrapping the cloth around the injured leg. Unexpectedly, the wolf raised his head and his yellow eyes fixed on Remy. The Cajun forced himself not to back away. The wolf tried to get to his feet and surprisingly enough he managed and staggered towards Remy.

 

Warren could hardly believe what he was seeing, but a big smile surfaced on his face when the wolf rested his head on Remy's knee, looking up pleadingly. Whatever this 'charm', no 'magic' was, it was powerful.

 

"He likes me," Remy whispered in surprise, manoeuvring his hands underneath the body. It took all his strength to lift the wolf, but Remy succeeded. "He just told me."

 

Warren nodded his head. "I knew you could do it. Now, let's get him back to the house. Do you think he will let me carry him? You should be careful, considering your side…"

 

"Wolf's 'kay wid dat." Remy couldn't help it. His eyes were swimming.

 

Warren quickly took hold of the wolf, which wasn't that heavy. "Probably couldn't catch a prey with that leg," Warren muttered.

 

"Ange… help me?"

 

"What's wrong, love?"

 

"I can feel him," Remy lifted his hand and touched his brow. "I can feel him here."

 

Warren wasn't surprised. He'd even expected something like this to happen. "Rem? We need to get back to the house. Get behind me and hold on!" he instructed. "We'll discuss this when we get home, please, love." The frantic expression in Remy's eyes worried Warren.

 

As the Cajun didn't move, Warren realized he had to change tactics. Warren grinned briefly, momentarily grateful Bets was a telepath who'd taught him a couple of things. "Can you feel me too? In your mind?"

 

Remy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when Remy realized he could. "Cher," he stuttered taken aback, feeling the concern, feeling the love wash over him. It drew him closer like a magnet.

 

"That's it, now hold on like you did last night." Relieved, Warren felt Remy's arms fold around his waist. "This will only take a few minutes." Warren looked over his shoulders and into Remy's dilated pupils. "Just concentrate on me, Rem. Focus on my thoughts…"

 

Reassuring thoughts drifted into his mind, calming Remy down. "I'm… holdin' on," Remy whispered, pressing himself into Warren's body as they took off. Something warm covered his mind, helping him relax. "Are you doin' dis?"

 

"Yes, something I learned during training…." Warren explained, conveniently forgetting to mention the fact that it'd been Bets who'd taught him to center his thoughts. "Hold on, Rem…" The wolf in his arms was still, just as still as the man holding onto him and Warren concentrated on flying, getting them home safely.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

"What the hell's this?" Scott carefully uncovered the letter and the attached file. It looked old, even tattered around the edges. Flipping the papers over, his eyes grew big. "A death certificate?" What was he supposed to do with that? His interest increased as he read the name of the city where the death had occurred, New Orleans? Wasn't that where Remy had been born? Nervously, Scott looked at the letter. It just had a few written words on it.

 

'I thought you should know this.'

 

That was it. The note didn't even have a name on it. "Know what? What am I supposed to know?" Scott whispered aloud. Suddenly, he realized that his heart was pounding madly. Why was he this nervous? "Okay, let's have a look at this," he said, uncomfortably. Something about this was unsettling. The next name that he read on the death certificate paralysed him. "Remy? The baby was named Remy?" Instinctively, Scott knew that this was about Gambit.

 

Scott stopped believing in coincidence a long time ago. Someone had sent this on purpose! "Can this be his death certificate?" His hands shook, though he wasn't sure why. Then his eyes scanned lower. "The child died 5 minutes after birth. His eyes were red on black," he read aloud. Darn, what the fuck was going on? Next, Scott located the name of the doctor who'd signed this certificate. "Nathaniel Essex?" Scott hissed the name in loathing. "Sinister delivered the baby and then declared him dead?"

 

Something twisted in his chest and stunned, Scott realized it was his heart. "Why would Sinister want everyone to believe that the baby died…?" he mumbled softly and then groaned. "Of course, Sinister wanted him for his own experiments!" But this still didn't make any sense. Six months ago, Remy had still been very much alive! "Sinister must have planned on abducting the baby, telling the parents the boy had died! Something upset Sinister's plans."

 

The diabolical scheme angered Scott, made him furious. Those poor grieving parents! No wonder Remy had never known his parents! He'd read the Cajun's file after Gambit had joined the team. It was standard procedure. They all had gone through some traumatic events and Scott couldn't take the risk of anyone freaking out because they were confronted with their worst fears. There had been a couple of times that they'd helped Ororo when they'd got stuck in small spaces. Knowing someone was claustrophobic was important!

 

"And why sent it to me?" Scott wondered mystified. Unable to resist temptation, he peeked at the names of Remy's parents. Maybe, he could notify them, tell them they'd had a good man for a son and offer them some consolation… a lifetime too late, but maybe it'd help. "Katherine-Ann Sum…" Scott's voice faltered. The certificate dropped onto the floor and his breathing stopped briefly. That was his mother's name… what was her name doing on this certificate?

 

"God…" Scott whispered upset and picked up the piece of paper again. Afraid to find out the truth he looked at the name of the father. "Christopher…" Again, his voice trailed off. "This can't be happening. Someone is trying to mess with my head! Like I don't feel guilty enough for failing him!" Why? Why do this? Why abuse a dead man's name? Remy was dead and couldn't speak up. "Oh, my God, oh, my God," was all Scott could master. Fighting his anger-- or was it pain?--, he started pacing the room. This had to be a lie! This couldn't be true! If this was true it made Remy… "My younger brother?"

 

Scott?

 

The professor and Jean's concern washed into his mind. "Not now! I want a moment alone!"

 

But they were already approaching, their thoughts growing closer and stronger. Why couldn't they leave him alone for just a moment? Acting on impulse, he grabbed his jacket and climbed out of the window, down the tree and then ran, mentally telling his mentor and his wife not to come after him.

 

We'll be here when you're ready to talk, the professor sent after his fleeing student. Confused, Charles looked up at Jean. "I don't know Scott like this."

 

Jean nodded her head and opened the door to their rooms. "Something upset him." The first thing that drew her attention was the file and the attached note. "This arrived yesterday," she remembered, seeing the envelop on the floor. She was concerned for her husband and couldn't look away, so she scanned the contents. Sir! she exclaimed shocked and handed him the papers.

 

Apprehensively, Charles read through it. "What?" he whispered confused. This was certainly unexpected. "Corsair is Remy's father?"

 

"According to this certificate, yes." Jean nodded her head. "Sir, do you think someone's trying to manipulate Scott?" Stunned, she stared at the names. "Can this be true?" Oh, she understood why Scott had run, why he needed to think. "Remy? His younger brother?"

 

"Did you see this name?" Charles pointed out Essex's name.

 

Curiously, she leaned in closer. "No, I didn't," she said breathlessly. "But, it would make perfect sense, wouldn't it? Sinister trying to get his hands on a Summers?"

 

"Oh yes, it does," Charles admitted within a heartbeat. "We need to find out the truth."

 

"A DNA check?" Jean proposed. "Hank should have a sample from Scott stored away and I am sure we can find something, like a hair in Remy's room. It would reveal the truth."

 

"Do it," Charles ordered, but gently took hold of her hand before she could leave the room. "Jean?" Hope, sadness and regret mingled in her mind.

 

"I…" She took a deep breath. "If this is true, Scott will never forgive himself. Failing a team-mate is inexcusable in his eyes, but failing his younger brother? It would drive him over the edge. He's lost so many people he cared for." She brushed some locks behind her ears."I don't know, sir, don't know what to hope for. I don't know if I want the DNA test to come back positive. Scott would resent himself for not having known earlier. If only Remy were still alive, still with us!"

 

"I'm so sorry," Charles whispered and reassuringly, he squeezed her hand. "I'll try to talk to him, be there for Scott, regardless if this is true or a lie. He needs to talk about Antarctica."

 

"You're right, sir," Jean mumbled absentmindedly and hurried out of the room to seek out Hank in the med lab.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Scott slowed down when he arrived at the lake and sank onto the ground. In a few seconds his whole world had been turned upside down. My God, what if it was true? Why would anyone falsify a death certificate? Come to think of it, why would anyone take the time to create a death certificate? Damn, his gut instinct told him this was the real thing. This was a genuine certificate and he'd left it in his room! He wanted to hold it in his hands, wanted to stare at all those names. His parents, his nemesis, and the name of a younger brother he'd never known existed! Remy… Gambit… was the Cajun his younger brother?

 

It would make his failure oh so more shattering. "If he's my brother, I… oh, fuck!" he'd screwed up big time! "It's just a sick joke!" Scott screamed into the evening sky. He wasn't sure he could bear it being the truth…

 

///

 

Moscow

 

"Where are we?" Logan tried to stop his body from spinning. Gravity was gone and it took all his cunning and expertise to steer his body in the right direction to hook up with Jean-Luc. "Got ya, Cajun," he growled low in his throat. "We acted like some stupid beginners!"

 

"I told you that he's dangerous," Jean-Luc said softly, trying to keep the contents of his stomach inside. This spinning made him nauseous! "We should have been careful!"

 

"Ya wanted to talk to him. If ya had me let do this my way I would have gutted him! But no! Ya needed to talk and then ya fly off the handle!"

 

Logan sounded seriously pissed off and Jean-Luc couldn't blame him. "Any idea where we are, mon ami?"

 

"Damn, feels like we fell through a portal and are now floating between dimensions… ya never told me he's this strong!" Logan tried to find some point of recognition, but there was only the void, grey and empty. "We're in serious trouble, Cajun!"

 

"We need to find de right door home," Jean-Luc mumbled absentmindedly. Something Stephen Strange had once told him bounced back into his mind. "De right door, window..."

 

"Do ya see a fuckin' door?" Logan grumbled frustrated. He hated being stuck like this!

 

"Mebbe I can…" Jean-Luc's voice drifted off. "What's dat?" An angry red light pushed the void away.

 

"I don't like that," Logan admitted cautiously, but couldn't deny that the red light was gaining on them. "I want to get away from it."

 

"We should stay put," Jean-Luc decided. "Dis doesn't feel… evil…"

 

"Feel? Now ya start to sound like some of my team-mates!" Inwardly debating the matter, Logan realized that he didn't really have a choice. The red light was reaching out for them, curling around their bodies, pulling them away from the grey void. "Shit," Logan whispered, feeling strangely vulnerable. He tried resisting the pull, but it wouldn't release him.

 

"You better not fight this," Jean-Luc advised him, trying to figure out their next move. "Let's see where dis light will take us."

 

They drifted a few moments longer and suddenly the gravity was back, dropping them hard on the pavement.

 

"Pavement?" Jean-Luc said quietly. "Got any idea where we are?"

 

Logan quickly scanned his surroundings. "Nope, doesn't look familiar." The sun was setting behind a dark, ominous mansion. Cocking his head, he tried to read the name carved into the stone gate. "Fire Lake?"

 

"Doesn't ring a bell," Jean-Luc replied frustrated. "But something, someone wants us here. We better try and talk to the owner."

 

"Ya sure?" Logan looked doubtfully. "I'm gettin' a lot of bad vibes," he commented, unable to label his discomfort. Maybe it was the smell of sulphur in the air and the hairs on the back of his neck rose alarmingly.

 

Jean-Luc beckoned Logan to start walking. "For what's worth, mon ami. I'm glad you’re here."

 

Logan nodded his head. He felt a lot better as well, knowing that Jean-Luc wasn't stuck here on his own. "Why are we here? Is it the Antiquary's work?"

 

"It's possible," Jean-Luc admitted as his hand came to rest on the doorbell. "Are you ready? We don't know what to expect."

 

"Until now no one attacked us… might be a good sign," Logan said hopefully. "Do ya also smell the sulphur?"

 

Jean-Luc looked up questioningly. "Sulphur? Non."

 

Ringing the doorbell, they waited, tense and ready to defend themselves. A moment later the door opened and revealed…

 

"What the hell?" Logan stuttered in mild shock. The… creature opposite them looked like a gargoyle, brown-orange coloured skin, wings and possessed the most probing eyes Logan had ever seen.

 

"He's expecting you," the creature said and gestured them to step inside.

 

Jean-Luc and Logan exchanged a look, uncertain if they should accept the invitation.

 

"I'm Isaac," the gargoyle said softly and gave them a smile filled with inexplicable regret.

 

"Isaac?" Jean-Luc decided to take the initiative. "Where are we? And who are you? Who's he?"

 

Isaac's smile grew even deeper in silent understanding. It was only logical that these humans had no idea what had happened to them. But it wasn't his task to tell them. His master would do that. "This place is called Fire Lake. He will tell you everything you need to know. Please follow me into the study."

 

"At least he's got manners," Logan growled softly.

 

Isaac grinned. "He'll join you in a moment. Please make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

 

"Beer would be nice." Logan felt tense in these unfamiliar surroundings. He'd figured out by now that Isaac wouldn't supply them with more information on him, whoever this person was.

 

"Coffee," Jean-Luc corrected. "We both want coffee, no beer!"

 

Logan shook his head in disapproval and explored the study a little. The desk was empty, no files and no paperwork. "I still don't like this."

 

"You've got great instincts for a human," a smooth voice whispered from behind.

 

Logan and Jean-Luc spun around, wondering how it was possible that the man had approached without them noticing it.

 

"For a human?" Jean-Luc asked curiously, as he took in the man's appearance. The long red hair almost reached the man's hips. He was at least 6 foot 7, not too muscular built, but the stranger moved with a startling grace. He wore a long dark coat, jeans and leather boots. Jean-Luc froze as he caught sight of the man's eyes. They were red…

 

Logan reacted to a possible threat and unsheathed his claws. "Who are ya, bub?" he said, demanding an answer.

 

The man walked over to the desk and sat down, eyes intensely locked on his guests. It didn't surprise him that they didn't know him. Yes, there had been times that he'd worked with X-Men, with Hank to be exact, but he'd never met Wolverine. "I brought you here because we need to talk," he said amused as Logan flaunted his claws, trying to sneak closer. "I would advice against that."

 

"Logan, don't." Jean-Luc placed a hand on his lover's arm, holding him back. "Your name," he stated determinedly.

 

"As you wish," he replied, nodding his head. "I'm Daimon Hellstorm."

 

///

 

Ireland

 

Worried, Warren looked over from the wolf to Remy, who sat on the couch. He didn't like the entranced look in his lover's eyes. Remy'd been like this since they'd left the lake. I can't possibly understand what he's going through. He's been afraid of his power for so long and now… I need to handle this carefully. "Rem? Do you want my help in treating the wolf's injury?" Warren still felt a little insecure about the wolf, wondering if it'd attack him, but Remy didn't even appear to hear his words. Luckily, the canine accepted his help and Warren carefully bandaged the wolf's injured paw. He then placed a bowl of water in front of the canine, which seemed to be incredibly thirsty. It was his third bowl of water. Poor animal must have been dehydrated.

 

"Want can we feed him? I don't have any dog food." Warren's concern increased. No matter what he said or did, Remy didn't react at all. This called for more drastic measures. "Rem?" Warren said as he stood in front of his love. "Can you hear me?" The Cajun seemed lost, lost in his mind, in his newly discovered abilities and Warren realized he needed to pull his love out of this trance. Sitting down on the coffee table, Warren took hold of Remy's hands and rubbed them. "Remy? Please talk to me," he pleaded in a firm tone. "You're scaring me here, love."

 

Remy wasn't sure what reached his mind first, the voice or the touch, but he managed to focus on his lover's blue eyes. "Cher?" Warren had asked him something, but what had it been?

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"I keep feelin' you, cher… in my mind… It scares me," Remy finally admitted.

 

"How do I feel?" Warren asked with a smile on his face. This would turn out right. He wouldn't let this overwhelm Remy. "Tell me, love."

 

"You feel… warm, light… your t'oughts… it's like I'm puttin' a puzzle togeder and I am still missin' some pieces," Remy tried to explain. He felt awkward, suddenly confronted with a power he'd always possessed but had never allowed free.

 

"You do realize what this means, Rem?" Warren warmed Remy's cold hands in his.

 

"He lied…" Remy whispered brokenly. "Or do you…?"

 

"No, I don't feel the need to jump you, love. The Antiquary lied."

 

Hearing those words felt liberating, but how to deal with this? How to deal with a fear he'd lived with his whole life? Never letting down his defences, --except for consoling tante, -- too scared he would end up hurt. Then, out of nowhere, Remy remembered Warren's question. "We got some steak?"

 

"Yeah," Warren smiled. "I planned on it being our dinner tomorrow eve though." Remy gave Warren a pleading look. "Yeah, I know he needs it more. Why don't you give me a hand?" Warren wanted to keep Remy from brooding, keep him busy. Once they'd taken care of the wolf, they'd talk.

 

"Sure." Remy followed Warren into the kitchen, but halfway, he got distracted by the wolf's eyes. "Mon ami… what happened to you?" He knew the wolf felt safe now, the reassurance echoed in his mind. The canine knew he was safe through this… link that had formed.

 

The wolf raised his head, licked Remy's hand and then collapsed into himself due to fatigue.

 

"Here." Warren hands Remy the plate with precious steak. "He better eat it."

 

Remy presented it to the wolf, whose eyes flashed. He looked up as if he was distrustful of the gesture, but as it remained poised in front of him, he hesitantly ate it.

 

"Someone hurt him," Remy said softly. "I see faces in his mind. A man and a small boy."

 

"Maybe they liked the way he looked when he was only a pup and later, when he started to grow and act like a wolf, they abandoned him?" Warren suggested thoughtfully. "People sometimes want exotic or dangerous animals as pets and when they grow older, they leave them behind because they can't cope with the animal."

 

"It's possible, oui," Remy admitted and smiled as the wolf devoured his meal. "You're safe here, mon ami." Remy blinked his eyes, sensing the wolf's approval. "He needs a name…" Remy remarked absentmindedly.

 

"What about Wolvie?" Warren wiggled an eyebrow. "You liked calling Wolverine that."

 

"Wolvie," Remy agreed pleased. "We'll call you Wolvie."

 

Warren shook his head in disbelief. It almost looked like the canine understood every word they'd said. He probably does, because of Remy. The wolf's eyes started to drop shut and Warren curled an arm around Remy's waist. "Come on, we need to talk, but first we're getting into bed. You look damn tired, love."

 

Remy fumbled in his pockets and uncovered the shackles. He handed them to Warren with a questioning look in his eyes. "Do I still need dem?" Fear, doubt and apprehension had been his companions for much too long. Remy couldn't dismiss them like that.

 

Warren shook his head. "He lied, Rem. Whatever this mutant power is it won't make people rape you." Warren wondered how many more times Remy would need to hear it, but most importantly, he had to prove his words through his actions. "Wolvie is almost asleep, Rem. We should get some rest as well." By using the word we, Warren hoped that Remy would give in easier. "I'm tired," Warren added, manipulating the Cajun a little.

 

"Oui, cher." Remy allowed his lover to pull him to his feet. "I ain' sure I can leave dem here," Remy said and pointed at the shackles on the coffee table. "What if you…" He left the sentence unfinished. What if you're wrong, cher?

 

Warren sensed the question, momentarily unsure whether he heard it in his mind or that his instincts guided him. "Then bring them along."

 

Remy gathered them up and carried them upstairs after looking one last time at their canine guest who was deeply asleep.

 

"Do you want to take a shower?" Warren inquired. To be honest, he just wanted Remy resting in bed.

 

"Non, I'll do dat tomorrow." Tired, Remy dropped onto the bed.

 

"How's your side? We have to check on it in the morning." Sinking down next to his lover, Warren embraced Remy and they fell onto the bed sideways, holding each other tightly. "You've changed," Warren mentioned absentmindedly, as he pushed back a stray lock.

 

"In what way?" Remy asked hesitantly.

 

"You're even more beautiful now and you already were stunning!" Warren enjoyed the shy smile on his love's face. "There's this… how can I phrase this?" Momentarily lost for the right words, Warren searched Remy's eyes. "It's like you posses this inner light. Like I can see your… soul on the outside and it's breathtaking."

 

Exhausted, Remy rested his head against Warren's shoulder. "Can we keep him? I never had a pet."

 

The question surprised Warren. "Wolvie? If he wants to stay he's welcome." He realized that Remy already felt attached to the wolf. "Remy? Are you awfully tired or can we talk?" Warren pulled up the blankets, ignoring the fact that they were still fully clothed. Pulling Remy closer, he tried to warm that cold body with his.

 

"We can talk," Remy cocked his eyes and met Warren's. "What 'bout?" It felt good to rest in his lover's arms. It made him feel safe and wanted.

 

"Your magic, love," Warren said tentatively, but resolved. "I want to know what it feels like. Can you only sense my emotions or my thoughts too?"

 

"Emotions… oui, t'oughts…. Not so sure, cher," Remy replied honestly. "Merci for pulling me t'rough. I felt awfully lost. Didn' know what to do 'bout de two of you in my head."

 

"What am I feeling now?" Warren softly kissed his love's brow and his hands soothingly rubbed Remy's back. He had a confession to make and it scared the hell out of Warren. But he'd made his decision. He wouldn't wait for the nightmares to reveal his betrayal. He'd tell Remy about his part in the trial.

 

Remy lifted one leg and rested it on Warren's hip, snuggling closer. But he always maintained eye contact. "Love," he whispered. "It's de clearest t'ing I'm gettin'. You really love me…" he paused to look inside Warren's mind, trying to label the sensations floating through him. "Concern?"

 

"Yes, anything else?" Warren's right hand tangled in auburn hair.

 

"Fear?" Remy choked out. "Why are you 'fraid, cher?" His heart missed a beat, seeing the changed expression in his love's blue eyes.

 

"I've got to tell you something, Rem. Please listen and let me finish?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "What is it, cher?" Apprehension flooded Remy's mind and it took him a moment to realize it was Warren's.

 

"You remember the trial," Warren started hesitantly, fearing Remy's possible reactions. He could only hope that the Cajun would find it in his heart to forgive him.

 

"Oui, I do… why bring it up?" Remy's tone was filled with pain and regret. The only thing that kept him sane was this warm body next to him, the warm feelings washed over him and he clung to them. "I don' want to remember Antarctica, too cold, cher."

 

"I was there too," Warren said, plunging into the deep and sending a little prayer up to their guardian angel, hoping he was still around, looking over them.

 

"You?" Funny, Remy didn't remember that detail. "What were you doin' dere, cher?"

 

"Eric the Red… appointed me as your defence. I'm a lawyer and…" Warren cringed, as Remy's eyes grew big. "Rem, please listen!"

 

But his memories were coming back. "Your wings… chained?" Eric the Red had made a mockery of his trial, a trial Remy had deserved, but it should have been a fair one!

 

"I accepted to defend you, Rem." Nervously, Warren licked his lips, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Damn! He'd never thought it would be this hard! "Then I learned that you worked for Sinister, were involved in the Massacre and I…" God help him, but he couldn't speak the words.

 

"Mais what, cher?" Remy's clung to him, not even realizing Warren was holding onto him with the same desperation. His new power told him that Warren was panicking. Warren's heart beat madly underneath his fingertips.

 

Warren was afraid to continue, but in order to move on, they had to face this. "After hearing about the Marauders… I refused to defend you any longer." There he'd said it! Scared, he probed Remy's eyes, which were surprisingly lucid. However, his own eyes were swimming too and tears escaped down his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Rem. I let you down… just as Eric the Red wanted."

 

"Dat's it?" Remy whispered, remembering Warren's tone when he'd told Eric the Red that he'd longer defend Gambit. "Dat's it? Cher? I understand. You were hurt 'cause dey took your wings… I don' blame you, cher!" Remy pressed a passionate kiss on his lover's startled lips. "I understand."

 

"You forgive me? Forgive me for walking out on you?" Warren cried softly. He'd been so scared to confess this to his lover. "How can you?" But the answer was in the red on black eyes and it was called love. He didn't deserve this leniency. "I didn't return to get you out of that hell-hole," Warren continued, his bitter tone aimed at himself. "We just left."

 

"Because Rogue told you I was dead," Remy reminded Warren. "It's bien, ange. I understand. I'd have done de same t'ing if I'd been in your place." It physically hurt to see the man he loved in so much pain. "Don' hate yourself for dis," Remy pleaded, suddenly understanding the alien emotion running through his mind. Remy swallowed hard, remembering that night when he'd been caught up in his own nightmares. Warren had soothed him back then by telling him how much he loved him. Remy drew from that experience, wrapped his arms around Warren and tucked his lover's head against his chest. "Je t'aime, ange. Je t'aime. I'll always love you. I don' blame you."

 

Hearing those words made Warren sob, but they also mended his heart. "Rem?" Warren looked up and stared into melancholy eyes. "I love you… I really do."

 

"I know dat, cher," Remy assured Warren and wrapped his body around his lover's, ignoring the sting in his side. "Ange? You have a good cry now," he said in a mischievous tone.

 

"I'm not a little child!" Warren countered and he was surprised to hear the amusement in his own voice. "You're so good to me."

 

"Moi?" Remy raised an eyebrow. "You're de only reason why I'm still sane… I felt like I was goin' to lose my mind too many times to count."

 

"We should change into our jammies," Warren whispered, hoping it'd draw a chuckle from his lover.

 

"I don' know, cher… I'm comfortable. I got de most important t'ing in my life right here…" Remy closed his eyes, focusing on the warm body in his arms. His lover… and his lover had allowed him to console him, to be there for him. It was a novel experience and Remy didn't really want to give it up, didn’t want to move, for then things would change.

 

Warren smiled warmly against Remy's chest. "Rem, don't ever leave me, you hear? Don't."

 

"I could never leave my ange," Remy replied, loving the sappy talk. He had never shared something this warm, this intense with a lover before.

 

A soft growl disturbed their too brief moment in heaven. Warren turned his head and couldn't help but smile. "We've got company, Rem."

 

"He wants to sleep here," Remy informed his love. "He feels lonely downstairs. Make him a bed in de corner? Or he'll crawl onto de bed."

 

"You already got me wrapped around your little finger, your highness!" Warren teased warmly. Reluctantly, he got up and put a blanket and pillow in the corner. "You can sleep there."

 

The wolf limped over to the pillow and settled down. His eyes were alert, scanning the room for possible danger.

 

"Rem?" Quickly, Warren crawled back underneath the covers, snuggling up to Remy. It felt good to be held. "I got this feeling Wolvie is a very smart wolf."

 

Remy agreed. "His mind feels… focused… mais den 'gain… he's de first animal I ever made contact wid. Mebbe wolves just feel like dat?" Remy craved his lover's warmth and while trying to get even closer, they ended up in a tangled mess.

 

Unexpectedly, feathers floated closer, descending onto them in a protective hug. "Cher," Remy whispered taken aback.

 

"You're safe, Rem. We are safe. Let's get some sleep."

 

Remy didn't argue and closed his eyes, knowing that he'd always be safe in his angel's arms.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

While humming a soft melody, Bobby drove back to the mansion. His date with Nicholas had been sweet, but much too short. It was a pity that his love had to work the rest of the night. A melancholy sigh left his lips. Nicholas accepted his mutant power unconditionally and Bobby hoped that this relationship would work out.

 

Still a little lost in thought, Bobby almost failed to see the lone form sitting near the lake. "Scott?" he mumbled surprised. It wasn't like Slim to come here in the middle of the night and Bobby couldn't help but wonder if something bad had happened. He stopped the car, got out and walked towards the lone figure. "Scott?" Yes, the ruby glasses sparkled as Scott turned his head and the moonlight hit them. "What are you doing here on your own?" Bobby's heart missed a beat, seeing the solitary tear that slipped away from underneath the glasses. "Did something happen to Jean?" It was Bobby's first thought, his primary concern. "Did someone get hurt?"

 

"Bobby?" Scott tried to recompose himself, but failed. "What are you doing here?"

 

"Coming home after my date with Nicholas," Bobby said honestly, still a little baffled that only Storm had problems with his sexual preferences. Scott had been a lot more easy-going than Bobby had ever expected. "Yeah," Bobby whispered, seeing the question on Scott's face. "We're doing okay. This might be something long term."

 

"I'm happy for you," Scott replied, eager to think about something else than the death certificate that had upended his life. "You're awfully quiet about him. What's he like?"

 

Surprised at hearing this question, Bobby sat down next to Scott. Something odd was going on here and Bobby wanted to know what had upset his friend. Okay, he could wait for Scott to address his problems. Bobby would go first. "Nicholas is 25 years old and a history student. He works in the store to earn some money so he can continue his studies."

 

Scott nodded his head. "Sounds like Nicholas knows what he wants out of life."

 

"Yeah, I suppose so." Bobby peeked at his friend. "My mutant power doesn't bother him. I told him the truth before things got serious."

 

Scott sat quietly. "I always hoped you'd find the right person, Bobby."

 

"Me being gay never bothered you?" Bobby often wondered why.

 

"I'm not homophobic, Bobby. Give me a little credit here. When it's love…" Scott's voice trailed off. The professor was consort to an alien, so why would it be wrong for two men to love each other?

 

"And Warren being in love with a man… did that surprise you?" Bobby asked hesitantly. "I must admit, I never saw that one coming."

 

"He surprised you too?" Scott laughed softly. "Me too, Bobby. I thought Warren was as straight as they come, but… I do hope we'll meet the guy at one point. I'm really curious to see him…" Scott stopped talking, seeing the unexpected panic in Bobby's eyes.

 

Bobby felt cornered. Yeah, he'd promised Warren to keep quiet, but he feared he might cave in if Scott pushed the right buttons, so he changed their topic. "Are you gonna tell me what you're doing out here?"

 

Privately, Scott cursed his stupidity. He didn't really want to discuss Remy, but maybe talking to Bobby was the right thing to do. "Do you remember the package you handed Jean a few days ago?"

 

Bobby nodded his head. "Yeah, bad news?"

 

"I'm not sure, Bobby," Scott whispered, wondering how much he should tell Bobby. The professor and Jean were waiting for him to talk this through, but for some reason he preferred to confide in Bobby. "I just found out that I've probably got a younger brother…"

 

Bobby's eyes grew big. "A younger brother?"

 

"Corsair never mentioned him to me, but according to the death certificate I received in the mail, the baby died 5 minutes after birth."

 

"He's dead? I'm sorry, man," Bobby said sincerely and rested a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. He wasn't going to push his friend. Scott had to set the pace.

 

"The doctor who delivered the baby was Nathaniel Essex."

 

"Sinister?" Bobby gasped, "Oh, man, this is bad."

 

"I guess Corsair never mentioned it, because Sinister told them that the baby died."

 

"But the baby didn't?" Bobby took an educated guess. "Tell me, Slim, what's going on?"

 

"The baby survived. I guess Sinister wanted him for his own experiments and my parents never knew that their son survived after all."

 

Bobby leaned in a little closer, cursing the fact that he couldn't see Scott's eyes. "How do you know the baby didn't die?"

 

"The certificate states that the baby was born with red on black eyes…" Scott hadn't finished yet, but Bobby's surprised yelp stopped him. "Yeah, how many people are born with red on black eyes?"

 

"Gambit?" Bobby trembled slightly at the revelation. "Remy's your brother?"

 

"Younger brother, yeah… He was born when I was 5." Scott looked out over the lake. "I guess the professor and Hank are already running a DNA test."

 

"They know too?"

 

"Jean and the professor found the letter when I was on my way out. I just couldn't face them," Scott admitted honestly. "We should have searched harder!"

 

Bobby immediately understood that last remark. "The sensors didn't pick anything up when we were in Antarctica, Scott." Damn! He knew Remy was still alive, but couldn't tell Scott, but if he kept quiet, Scott would beat himself up for this!

 

"You know, Bobby," Scott turned his head and looked at his younger friend. "I can't help but hope that Warren's right. That maybe Remy was still alive when Rogue left him and that he did find a way out of that icy hell."

 

"Scott," Bobby started, squeezing his friend's shoulder.

 

"I failed my brother, Bobby! My brother! Fuck, what kind of leader am I?" Scott suddenly exploded, pulled away from Bobby's hand and started to pace. "I should have done something! Should have done something different. Should have seen the problems between Rogue and Remy! Should have known he's my brother!"

 

"Scott, calm down!" Bobby ordered, got to his feet and stopped Scott in his tracks by resting both his hands on the man's shoulders. "You didn't know. You tried. You always try. This mess isn't your fault."

 

Scott bit his lower lip. "I regret…"

 

"What?" Bobby felt a little relieved now Scott was calming down.

 

"Alex and I… we never really got along…" Scott sunk down onto the ground again, resting his chin on his knees. "Maybe, if I had known that Remy was family… I always wanted that special bond with Alex, brothers… acting like brothers, being brothers… but Alex always made it so damn hard for me to love him like a brother."

 

Bobby remained quiet, sitting down again, letting Scott tell in his own pace.

 

"Remy and I got along, yes, but I never tried to really get to know him. He was a team-member and I his team leader. That was it. If I had known I could have tried harder."

 

Bobby drew in a deep breath. His conscience acted up. Telling Scott that Remy was still alive was the right thing to do, but there was the promise he'd made to Warren. "You wanna know something, Scott?" Bobby waited for Scott to look up. "I think Remy's still alive. We didn't find his body. You've got to believe he's still alive."

 

"I want to," Scott admitted. "But I wouldn't survive the disappointment if we found his body after all. I want to go back to Antarctica, Bobby and search the citadel one more time."

 

Bobby swallowed hard. "Don't do that, man."

 

"I have to, Bobby," Scott insisted, "I've got to know if his body is buried underneath the snow. Are you coming with me?"

 

Oh shit. Bobby couldn't let Scott leave on this wild goose chase, not while he knew the truth. "Make you a deal, Slim. Lemme catch some sleep and if you still wanna leave, we will take the Black Bird tomorrow." In the meantime I can e-mail Warren and tell him what's going on.

 

"Thanks," Scott whispered, truly touched. "You were there when we searched the first time…" He remembered trying to take out the Black Bird to return to Antarctica and suddenly Bobby had stood in the cabin door opening, demanding he was allowed to tag along.

 

"We should go home, find out what the DNA test revealed," Bobby suggested and rose from the ground. He offered Scott a hand and pulled him to his feet. "C'mon," and Bobby pointed towards his car. "It's getting chilly out here."

 

Feeling defeated and depressed, Scott followed. His instincts told him what the outcome of the DNA test would be. "I've been so blind."

 

Bobby got behind the wheel and started the car. "We'll find out the truth and if Remy's still alive, we'll find him," he promised passionately.

 

"Thanks," Scott whispered and awkwardly, he patted the back of Bobby's hand.

 

///

 

Fire Lake

 

"Daimon Hellstorm. I know that name," Logan growled. "You're the son of Satan. Hank mentioned ya once…" Feeling ill at ease, he backed away, tightening the grip he had on Jean-Luc. "What do ya want from us?"

 

"Sit down," Daimon said amused.

 

Isaac entered the study and put the coffee onto the desk. "Anything else?" he asked Daimon.

 

"No, just make sure we aren't interrupted." Daimon sipped from his coffee. The moment Isaac closed the door behind him, Daimon looked at his guests, which seem reluctant to try the hot coffee. He laughed; people always assumed the worst when meeting him.

 

"Talk about what?" Jean-Luc asked as he sat down. Logan moved into place behind him, resting a cautious hand on the headrest.

 

"A child with the devil's eyes and angelic features," Daimon said and watched Jean-Luc's startled reaction.

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc exchanged a glance with his lover. "Is dis about Remy?"

 

"And the Antiquary," Daimon clarified.

 

Both Logan and Jean-Luc noticed the disgust as Daimon spoke the name.

 

"Did you put him up to dis?" Jean-Luc asked in anger. "Did you tell de Antiquary to kidnap de baby?"

 

Daimon got up from behind the desk, cocked his head and laughed hard, mocking them. "You don't know me," he stated.

 

"That's true, but we know what ya are," Logan countered viciously.

 

"Still feeling hostile?" Daimon shook his head. "I have no ties with the Antiquary. I've considered taking his soul more than once."

 

Jean-Luc gave Logan a cautious look. "I want to hear de rest," he informed his lover.

 

Reluctantly, Logan gave in, but he still didn't like this one bit.

 

"A wise decision." Daimon pulled up his chair and sat down in front of Jean-Luc. "There's a prophecy."

 

"The Antiquary mentioned that." Logan kept a close eye on Daimon.

 

Daimon continued, ignoring Logan's remark. "The prophecy stated that a child would end the Antiquary's reign of terror. The child would bear the mark of the devil. The Antiquary assumed that red eyes were such a mark."

 

"You have got red eyes too," Jean-Luc whispered uncomfortably.

 

"Yes, but I am Satan's offspring," Daimon stated.

 

"And Remy?" Jean-Luc had to know.

 

"A mutant. Satan didn't father him." Daimon saw the relief in the Cajun's eyes. "Remy always possessed the power to defeat the Antiquary, but the sorcerer ensured the child would never discover his real power."

 

"The charm?" Jean-Luc said with sudden dread.

 

Daimon laughed. "I'll get to that in a second."

 

Logan growled, "Ya better hurry up."

 

"After Remy was born things went wrong. You stole him from the hospital and that crushed Remy's chances at growing strong before fighting the Antiquary." Daimon leaned back, emptying his cup of coffee, realizing his guests still refused to accept the drink. So be it.

 

"Why contact us now?" Jean-Luc asked confused.

 

"You went after the Antiquary. That puts Remy in danger… " Daimon tapped his fingertips on the wooden arm rest. "You woke him. He's been asleep for a long time, but now he wants revenge."

 

"Ya think he'll go after Remy?" Logan interrupted, still uncertain what to make of Daimon.

 

"Yes," Daimon confirmed. "Understand this. I only learned of Remy's existence weeks ago." When he'd succeeded his father as the new ruler of Hell he'd uncovered a lot of plotting. "Remy suffered unnecessarily because my father leaked the prophecy to the Antiquary. The sorcerer wasn't supposed to know the words of the prophecy."

 

Jean-Luc's brain worked overtime to try and make sense of all this information. "Why Remy? If he's only a mutant why would he be chosen to bring down a sorcerer?"

 

Daimon nodded his head. "You're smart. Yes, there's more, but are you ready to hear the rest of the story?"

 

"I am," Jean-Luc said determinedly. "I stole him dat night and I need to keep him safe now."

 

"Why did you steal him?" Daimon's eyes narrowed. "Tell me."

 

"The Antiquary ordered me." Jean-Luc shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Logan tensed behind him and Jean-Luc placed his hand on his lover's, admonishing Logan to keep his cool.

 

"And your wife…" Daimon raised an eyebrow. Yes, he could be ruthless if necessary, but these two men weren't his enemies.

 

"Wife?" Logan repeated surprised. "Ya never mentioned yer wife was involved." He vividly remembered Jean-Luc's confession and Mattie telling him that the Antiquary had used the potion of eternal life to control the patriarch. But now he suspected that Jean-Luc had been keeping back.

 

Jean-Luc spoke through gritted teeth. "Louise was ill, very ill and de Antiquary said that he would heal her if I stole de baby. I made a pact."

 

"And he let her die anyway," Daimon finished for him.

 

"Oui, Louise died two days after I handed Remy over to de Antiquary." Jean-Luc got to his feet and paced restlessly. "I wanted to reclaim Remy, but… the Antiquary was too strong."

 

Satisfied, Daimon stretched his legs and returned to his desk, but secretly he studied the impact this new information had on Logan.

 

Logan felt shocked. He'd assumed all along that something traumatic had happened in Jean-Luc's life, considering the way the man had locked himself up in his work, but… "He let her die?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc said with steel in his tone. "I loved her so much dat I was willing to sacrifice a baby's life."

 

Logan turned away from Jean-Luc and locked eyes with Daimon. "What about the rest of the story?"

 

Daimon wavered. "Maybe later…"

 

"Now," Jean-Luc said resolved. "Tell us now."

 

Daimon gave in; maybe it was better this way. "Remy's soul is… special."

 

"Soul? Special?" Logan raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?"

 

Daimon grinned. "I doubt you'll understand. Maybe you aren't ready yet to hear this."

 

"Try us," Jean-Luc stated in a clear tone.

 

"Every soul has the choice to serve good or evil," Daimon explained, "Sometimes, a demon or an angel decides to join with a human soul because it's been given a task. When I was born, my soul was half human, half demonic. My wife sacrificed her sanity in order to expel the satanic part."

 

"I'm sorry to hear dat, mais what has dis to do with Remy?" Jean-Luc studied Daimon and was upset to see a very human emotion in those red eyes; regret.

 

"Remy's soul is half human, half angelic." Daimon grinned hearing their surprised gasps. "The Antiquary always feared that Remy would discover his powers, his hidden powers, what you call charm."

 

"What did you say?" Jean-Luc muttered startled.

 

"A child was born with red eyes and angelic features," Daimon repeated his earlier statement. "Red eyes because of his mutant powers, and deep inside his soul lives the essence that joined him before birth. It's rare that an angel decides to re-incarnate, melting with a human soul, but the Antiquary was gaining too much power. Remy was chosen to fight this battle."

 

"I never suspected…"

 

Daimon was relieved to see understanding in his guests' eyes. It was important that they believed him. Daimon took a deep breath. "I owe Remy my help."

 

Logan, who had been strangely quiet, looked up. "Ya need to draw a number and stand in line if ya want to kill the bastard."

 

Daimon laughed loudly. "You can't kill him! He's a sorcerer. Part of his soul is demonic!"

 

"And you can?" Jean-Luc asked to make sure.

 

"Yes," Daimon replied. "We'll track him down and when the time is right my Hellfire will send his black soul to Hell where it belongs!"

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"Now be a good wolf and eat!" Warren smiled hearing Remy's concerned voice. They'd just visited the vet and Remy had clearly been relieved when the vet had told them that the wolf would be okay. They'd gotten some ointment to go onto the wound and bandages. Then they'd bought tons of dog food. Now that they were back Warren got rid of the image inducer and started carrying the rest of canned dog food inside. Remy was sitting on his heels, petting the wolf's head. The look the canine gave Remy was uncanny and Warren wondered just what was going in their minds. He felt left out.

 

"Cher?" Remy looked up and extended his hand. "Come 'ere."

 

Warren put the cans on the kitchen counter and joined his lover.

 

"First time I'm doin' dis," Remy whispered shyly.

 

"What, Rem?" Warren wanted to add something, but suddenly a feral power slipped into his mind, focused and predatory. "So that's how Wolvie feels to you?"

 

"Oui," Remy said with a smile. "And don' worry. He won' try to bite you 'gain. He now knows you're a bien homme." Remy cocked his head. "I'm tired…"

 

"Why don't you take a shower? That might help," Warren suggested, surprised that the canine's presence still lingered in his mind, now that Remy was retreating up the staircase.

 

"Do you want to join me, cher? In de shower?" Remy asked shyly. "I t'ink I'm ready for de next step. Are you, ange?"

 

"Just touching?" Warren wavered. "I don't want to go too fast."

 

"I know dat, cher," Remy reassured him. "Join me?"

 

"Okay," Warren gave in. "I'm just going to carry the rest inside and make sure Wolvie's got something to eat and drink and then…" He blushed, thinking about joining Remy in the shower.

 

Remy returned to his lover and grinned wickedly, seeing the blush on Warren's face. He brushed his lover's lips seductively and pinched Warren's buttocks.

 

"Rem!" Warren exclaimed, rubbing his butt. "Don't do that!"

 

But Remy continued to grin and headed for the bathroom.

 

"Revenge will be mine," Warren announced, embarrassed to find that Remy's pinch had made him rock hard. His erection pushed against his jeans.

 

///

 

Remy relaxed underneath the warm beam of water. Although he'd slept extremely well last night he'd woken up in his clothes and had been dying ever since to take a shower. But the vet could only see them early in the morning, so they'd left right after Warren had made that call. He released a deep sigh as the warm water flowed down his body. What was taking Warren this long? Or was Warren trying to stall? Merde, this was hard on both of them. Remy realized that they had to take this slow, for both their sakes, but he wouldn't break when Warren touched him. But what he did fear were the memories, possibly even flashbacks. The Antiquary hadn't felt this close in years.

 

"Hey lover," Warren announced his presence, trying hard not to startle Remy. He'd been reading Jean-Luc's books and they'd offered some good pointers.

 

"Cher, come inside and close de door." A wave of cold washed inside and made Remy tremble. Suddenly, he forgot to take his next breath as Warren stepped up to him… naked. It was the first time that he saw his lover completely naked and his heart picked up speed. "Beautiful," Remy whispered approvingly. Warren's wings were half spread, touching the shower cabin's walls. A few golden hairs shone from his lover's chest and Remy's gaze traveled down the washboard abdomen. He swallowed hard seeing Warren's erect cock. "It's bien, ange. Come 'ere," Remy whispered, surprised that Warren acted this shyly. Remy opened his arms and pulled his lover close to his chest. "Nervous?"

 

"Yeah," Warren whispered in a raspy tone. "Geeze, Rem." Explanatorily, his right hand came to rest on the Cajun's smooth, hairless chest.

 

"Careful, cher, you're droolin'," Remy said teasingly and eased the tension between them.

 

"Just touching and kissing," Warrens stated determinedly. "We're taking this slow," he reminded his lover and stroked the soft skin beneath his fingertips.

 

"D'accord," Remy whispered and leaned in closer to kiss his lover's lips.

 

Warren moaned as Remy's lips captured his and he greedily parted his teeth, luring Remy's tongue inside. He maintained eye contact; Remy's expression would give away any unease. He gasped as Remy's semi erect cock brushed his. "You little tease," Warren breathed into Remy's mouth.

 

Remy chuckled and stroked his lover's back, hands trailing down to Warren's buttocks. "Make you come?" Remy offered, genuinely entranced by the way their bodies rubbed against each other.

 

Warren momentarily stopped his caresses to search the red on black eyes. "Only if I can make you come in return." He reclaimed those luscious lips and sucked on Remy's lower lip. Then his tongue trailed down his lover's throat, suckled the skin underneath Remy's ear and smiled secretly when the Cajun arched his back.

 

Feeling lost, Remy surrendered to his lover's ministrations. Warren's demand confused him. He wasn't used to his lover wanting to pleasure him in return. He knew how to surrender, how to please and give, but how did one receive pleasure? "Cher?" he whispered breathlessly.

 

"It's okay, Rem," Warren whispered, recognizing the confusion in those eyes. "We can stop."

 

"Non!" Remy exclaimed upset. "Want to make you come first," he clarified.

 

Warren watched Remy for several moments. "Just touching… remember that, love."

 

Slightly embarrassed Remy avoided his lover's eyes. He'd planned on using his lips and tongue to bring Warren to orgasm.

 

"Just your hands, love… And now kiss me?" Warren leaned against the tiles and pulled Remy with him. Warren raised one hand and rested it at the back of Remy's neck, gently kissing his lover.

 

Remy's right hand found Warren's hard cock and his fingers closed around it, pumping slowly. "Je t'aime," Remy whispered, a little startled when Warren threw back his head and bucked against his hand, asking him to speed up. "Never had dis much control," Remy whispered absentmindedly.

 

Warren's eyes sparkled. "I know that, love," he panted. "Please, Rem… harder… faster…" Remy's finger teased against the head of his cock and Warren arched his back, mutely begging for release. Warren yelped softly as another hand gently squeezed his balls, rolling them slowly. "Shit, Remy, what…?" The lips returned, taking away his last words and a delicious tongue chased his in a wild duel.

 

Remy obliged his lover and fisted the now slippery cock. Pre-ejaculate dripped over his fingers and suddenly he felt glad Warren insisted that this would only be a hand job. He still remembered the Antiquary's bitter taste when the old man had made Remy go down on him. Oui, doing it this way was best…

 

"Damn," Warren whispered, realizing he was close. "I'm gonna come, love."

 

Remy smiled. His lips left Warren's and Remy concentrated on one painfully erect nipple. At first, Remy only licked it, delighted to hear Warren's soft mews, but then suckled it passionately.

 

"Rem!" White cream shot from his cock into the palm of his lover's hand. Warren swayed on his feet and couldn't remember the last time he'd come this hard. "Rem, kiss me?"

 

Remy quickly returned to kiss his lover's bruised lips, but continued to milk Warren's cock until the last drop. With his left hand, he supported his lover, whose legs were about to give out on him. Gently, he followed Warren down until they kneeled on the floor. "Did you like dat?" Remy asked awkwardly.

 

Warren purred his answer. "Ohhh, yessss, most definitely!" Cocking his head he looked into nervous red on black eyes. "That was perfect." His words took away some of Remy's tension and Warren stroked his lover's wet hair. "I love you, Rem." He loved the blush that crept across Remy's face.

 

Remy managed a smile. "Gettin' cold, cher," he said and shivered. Although he was still painfully hard, the thought of Warren touching him like that made him nervous.

 

"We had a deal, love," Warren reminded Remy, remembering Jean-Luc's warning that Remy might refuse accepting the same pleasure in return. Facing his lover, Warren pulled Remy onto his lap, wrapping the Cajun's legs around his waist.

 

"What are you doin'?" Remy felt paralysed, now that he was so close to his lover. Warm water still dripped down their bodies and his erection throbbed painfully.

 

Warren folded one arm around his lover's waist to steady Remy. Then he leaned in closer and licked the skin near Remy's collarbone. A soft moan was his reward. Encouraged, Warren shifted his attention to the two rock hard nipples. He licked one and rolled the other between his fingertips. He was trying to find the spots that would make Remy moan, make him arch his back, thrust against his stomach and Warren succeeded. Pulling up his knees, Warren offered them as support and Remy rested his back against them.

 

Feeling incredibly shy, vulnerable and exposed, Remy grabbed Warren's shoulders to hold onto. "Cher, you don' need to do dis."

 

"Oh, no, Remy. I need to do this. I want to do this," and Warren silenced his lover with a ravishing kiss that left the Cajun breathless. Slowly, his fingers tangled in his lover's pubic hair, then slid down to run over the length of Remy's hard cock. "I never thought a man could get me hard… could make me want to do this," Warren whispered aloud. "But I want to make you come. I want to touch you, give you pleasure." As he continued to talk, Warren started to stroke his lover's cock.

 

"Cher?" Remy stuttered surprised. Warren's lips never left his skin and were now drawing circles around his nipple. His fingernails dug into Warren's shoulder, brushing feathers in the progress.

 

"Rem?" Warren's fingers explored the texture of his lover's balls and the velvet like skin felt intoxicating. "Please come for me?"

 

Remy moaned his need and surrendered to the sensations in his body and mind. Mon Dieu, he felt Warren's love, the desire and need to make him come, to feel Remy tremble in his arms. "Ange…"

 

"Come for me, love," Warren whispered and increased the pace with which he pumped his lover's cock. Remy went rigid in his arms and Warren reacted at once, suckling his lover's tongue. A second later, warm come covered his hand. Remy trembled in his arms, and the red on black eyes had turned big. "I love you."

 

"Mon Dieu," Remy whispered in ecstasy as waves of exquisite pleasure coursed through him. He couldn't stop himself as he buried his face against Warren's chest, nuzzling the skin there.

 

"Can I taste you?" Warren asked in an unguarded moment, unsure why he made that request. All he knew was that he wanted to explore every aspect of their bodies and lovemaking.

 

Remy's eyes mirrored his surprise. "If dat's what you want, cher…"

 

Warren raised his hand and licked a droplet of Remy's come from his fingers. "It might not take me too long to take the next step, Rem," he whispered, surprised at his eagerness to take this further.

 

"Cher? Hold me?"

 

Warren distinctly noticed the confusion in his lover's red eyes. "I took you a little by surprise, didn't I?" he realized and embraced Remy.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted. "I t'ought I was ready to do dis and I was… mais takin' dis furder…"

 

"It still scares you," Warren realized instinctively. "Don't worry about it, love. We'll take the next step together and only when we're both ready."

 

"Merci, ange," Remy whispered into the feathers which now covered him. "Mebby we should clean up now?"

 

"In a moment… can I just hold you a little longer?" Warren asked, knowing how much Remy needed this.

 

"Bien," Remy gave in, snuggling closer, enjoying the warm steam and steady flow of water down his spine. "Will you take me flyin' tonight?"

 

"Yeah," Warren whispered pleased and inhaled his lover's scent, suddenly realizing how damn right this felt. He'd never felt this intense when he'd been with Bets. "You're the other half of my soul," Warren whispered barely audible, struck by that sudden insight. "And I will never let you go again."

 

 

///

 

Westchester

 

"Are you're sure? You didn’t make any mistakes?" Scott's voice trembled and he inhaled deeply before looking at the results of the DNA test Hank had just run. Jean, the professor and Bobby were close, equally curious and concerned.

 

"No mistakes," Hank assured Scott. He wasn't sure how this outcome would affect Scott, but Hank hoped it'd be for the best. "You shouldn't postpone this."

 

"Easy for you to say," Scott countered and finally looked at the test results, which didn't surprise him at all. "Brothers," he whispered resigned. "I had this chance and blew it!"

 

"You didn't know Remy was your brother," the professor tried to reason with his student, but knew he had already lost. "Whoever sent you that death certificate wanted to hurt you."

 

Scott shook his head. "I want to be alone… please, guys." He walked out of the med lab, desperately searching for some quiet. But an angry female voice broke the silence.

 

"Sugah, yuh gotta believe me!"

 

"Rogue." Scott felt an unexpected raw wave of anger and hatred directed at his team-mate. He had to get out of here before he did something he might regret later. Facing Rogue now was the worst thing he could do.

 

"I can't!" Joseph exclaimed upset. "You just told me he was alive when you left him! You left him there to die!"

 

Scott listened intensely, suddenly extremely alert and interested. He stepped into the living room and watched the couple verbally fight.

 

"I considered Gambit my friend!" Joseph said in a tense tone. "He backed me up when no one else would, you included. I can't love a woman who…" Stunned, he looked at Scott's seemingly emotionless face. "I'm sorry, but I've got to leave. Rogue, it's over between us." After uttering those words, Joseph stormed out of the room.

 

Scott took in Rogue's pale face. Her hands shook and if looks could kill, Joseph and he would have been dead now. "Why? I thought you loved Remy." This time, he wanted answers. It was personal now. Had she killed his younger brother? "The truth, Rogue." Rogue was about to turn away and leave the room, but Scott covered the distance between them in a few steps. He yanked her around and locked eyes with her. "Did you ever really love Remy?"

 

Rogue's eyes mirrored confusion and anger. "Why's everyone defendin' him all of a sudden?" She tried to free herself of his hold, but Scott refused to let go. "What do yuh want?"

 

"Was Remy alive when you left him?" Scott's tone was calm and composed. He didn't want her to know the truth yet; that Remy and he had been brothers. She'd only use that knowledge to her advantage and twist it to her convenience.

 

"Yeah! He was alive!" she exploded. "He deserved tuh die!"

 

"Why?" It was becoming increasingly difficult to control his emotions. "Why!" Scott shook her slightly. "Why?"

 

"Because he…" Rogue stared at him. Her eyes were big and unfocused. "Ah knew he was holdin' back all that time… but he never confided in me. He didn't trust me!"

 

"So?" Scott hissed the word between gritted teeth. "You kept back when you joined us. Or did you forget all the crimes you committed before joining the X-Men?" He startled at his own venomous tone and released her as if bitten by a snake.

 

"He never trusted me! Never loved me!" Rogue shot back. "Ah gave him so many chances tuh tell me and he never did!"

 

Privately, Scott counted to ten to regain his calm. "Did you ever love him?"

 

"Yeah, Ah did! But he destroyed that love by not tellin' me the truth!" Rogue walked in to the corridor. "Ah wish Ah hadn't left him out there tuh die, but… I was so angry with him! All these years Ah tried tuh get through tuh him, tuh tell me what he was tryin' tuh hide, but it took a trial to reveal the truth! If yuh love someone, yuh trust that person!" Hurt and anger fought for the upper tone in her voice.

 

Quietly, he watched her. "Damn you, Rogue! Do you think it's so easy to trust you? Trust you with information he obviously felt ashamed of? You've got to have a connection first before you can open up to your loved ones! It took Jean and me years to get there! It's called unconditional love and the first thing you did with Remy was put down conditions. You kept pushing him, didn't you?" Scott took a deep breath. "I wondered time and time again why Remy put up with your demands… Look at you and Joseph now. You started off that relationship with lies! How do you expect to ever find love if you keep manipulating… That's it, isn't it?" he said with sudden understanding. "You can't help manipulating people. Rogue, you better straighten out this mess with Joseph. You're both on this team and I don't want any screw ups… and Rogue?"

 

Her eyes were aflame when she looked at Scott. She'd never seen this side to him and it baffled her. "What, Cyke?"

 

"Do me a favor? Stay out of my sight." Scott turned to leave, hearing her surprised gasp. "I mean it."

 

Rogue stared at his back until Scott slammed the door behind him. What had that been all about? And damn, what gave Scott the right to use such a tone with her? She'd tried! Tried to make things work with the stupid Cajun! It wasn't her fault that he'd never trusted her enough to prove his love to her! Enraged, she walked outside and took to the air in pursuit of Joseph.

 

Maybe it wasn't too late yet. Maybe she could convince Joseph that she'd acted in her lover's best interest when she'd told Joseph that Remy had been dead when she'd left him behind. Joseph had to believe her! Joseph loved her!

 

///

 

"All right, let's do this!" Bobby sat down behind his computer and was pleased to find one message from Warren in his inbox. He opened the message and then read it quickly. "Okay, big guy," he muttered absentmindedly and hit reply.

 

\-----Original Message-----

From: Bluefurryballs@hotmail.com

Sent: Sunday 14 January 22:47

To: WWorthington@Enterprises.com

Subject: Remy

 

Warren,

 

Okay, you know that everything that you tell me is between the two of us. My lips are sealed. I made you that promise and I'm going to keep it.

I'm glad to hear that Remy's doing better, but… man, there have been some scary developments over here. I can't tell you like this, but please, please ask Remy to reconsider. Please let me tell Scott that Remy's alive. Look, Scott really needs to know that Remy's fine. I don't feel comfortable telling you what happened over the net. Scott should be the one to do that. Warren, ask Remy and get back to me on this ASAP? Tell Remy this is important.

I know I'm rambling here, but I'm caught in the middle, knowing Remy's alive and I can't tell Scott. Scott needs to know Remy's alive, trust me on this.

 

Bobby.

 

Yeah, he was babbling all right, but he hated being stuck in this mess. He sent the message, hoping Warren would read and answer it within 24 hours; otherwise he had to go along with Scott's plan to return to Antarctica. A knock on the door disturbed his musings. "Yeah?"

 

Scott opened the door, walked inside and dropped onto a chair. "I don't know what to do."

 

Scott's emotionless tone alarmed Bobby. "What happened? I heard Rogue and Joseph shouting and…"

 

"I confronted her, Bobby," Scott mumbled and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. He quickly put them back in place. "She admitted to leaving him there alive."

 

"Good!" Bobby exclaimed pleased. "Remy's tough. He found a way out of there."

 

"Then where is he now? Hiding? Hiding from us? From Rogue? How can we find him? The professor offered to use Cerebro to track Remy down, but you know the Cajun's shields. The professor won't be able to find him."

 

"What's this really about?" Bobby asked as he switched off the monitor. He couldn't run the risk of Scott reading Remy's name on the screen.

 

"I guess I want a second chance…" Scott sighed heavily. "I want to get to know my brother… I want that connection I never felt with Alex."

 

"Scott, why don't you try to get some sleep? If Remy doesn't want to be found, we'll fail. Why not give him some time? Maybe he'll return when he's ready?"

 

"That's assuming he's alive," Scott pointed out to Bobby. "I can't bear the thought of him being buried underneath that snow or laying died inside that citadel. I'm his older brother. I should have kept him safe."

 

Bobby got up from his chair and guided Scott over to his bed. "Get comfy, Slim." He forced Scott onto his back and covered the emotionally drained man with a comforter. "I'm going to talk to Jean. Why don't you get some sleep? Things might be different when you wake up." Bobby made sure his friend was comfortable and then moved over to the doorway, praying Warren would read the message.

 

"Bobby? I want to be alone… Don't tell Jean…"

 

"I'll tell her not to disturb you, man. Now rest," Bobby instructed and closed the door. Angered, he slammed a fist into the wall. He needed someone to talk to and only Warren knew the truth, so he had to keep this all inside and it was eating him alive.

 

///

 

Fire Lake

 

Daimon walked them to their guest rooms and noticed the regular glance Jean-Luc sent his way. "What do you want to know?"

 

"Why do you want to help Remy?" Jean-Luc stopped walking as they reached their rooms, which were luxurious and comfortable.

 

Daimon walked inside and with a flick of his finger started a small fire in the open fire place to warm the room. "Maybe because I feel akin to your adopted son."

 

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain that?"

 

Daimon looked out of the window, shivering slightly at the memories. "Contrary to what most people think, I do have feelings. I feel fear, joy, love and hate."

 

"I never said you didn't," Jean-Luc reminded Daimon as he joined the other man in front of the window. Daimon didn't look much older than Remy. But there were lines of suffering on the man's brow Jean-Luc hadn't seen before.

 

"They called me Devilspawn when I was growing up," Daimon explained with a grim expression on his face. "At that time I didn't know that I was Satan's son. It hurt."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head in understanding. "They called Remy that… or Devil boy, le diable blanc."

 

"People can be so… ignorant, narrow-minded," Daimon agreed. "Remy suffered unnecessarily and I'm indebted to him. If my father hadn't leaked the secret…"

 

"You amaze me," Jean-Luc admitted, no longer paying any attention to his lover, who'd moved behind him.

 

"I am human," Daimon assured Jean-Luc. "My father never expected me to turn out like this. My mother died when giving birth to me and my sister, Satana, died to save Stephen Strange's soul."

 

Jean-Luc held his breath, hearing his old friend's name.

 

"I'm the result of a dysfunctional family," Daimon continued. "I never wanted to serve my father, have been a rebel from the start, but some things are inevitable," he concluded with a sigh. "I need to take care of some personal business. I'll inform you the moment the Antiquary moves against Remy."

 

"Ya can only do that if ya know where the kid is," Logan remarked, closely observing Daimon's expression.

 

"He's in Ireland," Daimon replied calmly. "I've got my sources."

 

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Jean-Luc asked, "Does Remy know…"

 

"He knows nothing," Daimon interrupted his guest. "And I won't tell him. I guess that's a decision you've got to make, monsieur LeBeau." After saying that, Daimon strode out of the room.

 

Puzzled, Logan eyed Jean-Luc. "What was that 'bout?"

 

"I've got to tell Remy dat I abducted him, about de prophecy," Jean-Luc summarized. "I always hoped dat I'd never have to tell Remy dat I delivered him into de Antiquary's hands."

 

"We can worry about that later, Cajun. First we need to stop the Antiquary from hurting the kid."

 

"We've got to wait," Jean-Luc realized. "What do you think of Daimon?"

 

"I don't know. He puzzles me. He doesn't act like he's the son of Satan."

 

"Mebbe we're prejudiced? When people met Remy for de first time dey assumed he was evil too."

 

"No offence, Cajun," Logan growled. "But I doubt Daimon is some kinda goody two shoes. We should stay alert."

 

Jean-Luc sunk onto the king size bed. "I'm tired."

 

"We better catch some sleep," Logan agreed. "We should be ready in case the Antiquary makes his move." He dropped next to Jean-Luc on the bed and covered his lover's body with his. "We also need to talk about us…"

 

"Later, cher?" Jean-Luc said pleadingly. "My head is spinning."

 

Logan pressed a passionate kiss on his lover's lips. "Remy's soul is special?" Logan nailed the problem Jean-Luc was struggling with right down.

 

"Can it be? Can it be dat part of his soul is…?" Jean-Luc failed to pronounce the word.

 

"That his soul is part angelic?" Logan finished for him. "Until a few hours ago I would have declined that option, but now… We know Daimon is the son of Satan… and if Satan exists, it is only a small step to assume that angels exist."

 

Jean-Luc felt lost. "I never thought…"

 

"The way Daimon explained it, Remy doesn't even know this himself." Logan had trouble accepting this too. "I guess Remy is the outcome of the merge that occurred before he was born. Ya ain't gonna lose yer son, Jean-Luc."

 

Jean-Luc wrapped his arms around his lover. "I just don't want Remy to get hurt because of all dis. He's been hurt too much already."

 

"We'll stop the Antiquary," Logan promised, "and you know that Remy loves ya."

 

"Mais can he forgive me for handing him over to de Antiquary?" Jean-Luc whispered in dread. " I don't want to lose him."

 

"Kid's a lot stronger than ya give him credit for," Logan reminded him. "And now stop worryin'. Together, we can beat the bastard."

 

"Hopefully."

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"Rem? I've got to check on your side." Warren walked up to his lover, who stood in front of the window. They'd spent most of the afternoon talking and he'd even convinced Remy to take a nap. "A penny for your thoughts."

 

Remy smiled. "Only a penny? A million at least!"

 

Warren grinned warmly. "Only one million?"

 

"Cher?" Remy turned around and wrapped his arms around Warren's waist. "I loved touchin' you in de shower," he added with a sly grin.

 

Warren led Remy to the couch and sat him down. "Take off that shirt," he instructed and got some new bandages.

 

Remy obeyed, but gave his lover a look filled with longing. "Cher?"

 

"Don't try those puppy dog's eyes on me." Warren sat down and removed the old bandage. "My, that's healing nicely. In a few days you can do without the bandages." The wound looked smoother, less raw and far less aggressive. "Must be all the rest and TLC you're getting!" Warren said jokingly.

 

Remy raised his right hand and his fingers tangled in Warren's golden hair. Remy couldn't explain this feeling of calm, of serenity that suddenly came over him.

 

"Do you know you smell of roses?" Warren quipped, intensely aware of the draped expression in his lover's eyes. "What are you doing?" he whispered as something warm, light and gentle slipped into his mind. With a start, Warren realized it was the love Remy bore him. "Rem? Talk to me?"

 

"Roses?" Remy remarked absentmindedly. This serene feeling reached each corner of his mind.

 

"When you took off the shackles you smelt of lilies… Don't know why, but the fragrance changes every so often." Warren finished bandaging his lover's wound and then leaned in a little closer to study the red on black eyes. "You've got golden sparkles in your iris," he whispered softly. "I've never seen them before."

 

"I'm scared," Remy admitted unexpectedly. "I'm changin'."

 

Warren pulled Remy into an embrace. "You just need to find out what this power is about, Remy. So far it hasn't hurt us. You can deal with it. I'm with you every step of the way."

 

"Can we go for a walk? I need to get out of here," Remy asked pleadingly.

 

Warren nodded his head, surprised as the golden sparkles brightened even more. "I'll get our coats."

 

Remy walked over to the wolf, petted his head and whispered. "We'll be back soon, mon ami." The wolf tried to get to his feet as if to accompany them, but Remy gently pushed him down again. "You need rest." The wolf gave in reluctantly.

 

"Are you ready to go?" Warren waited at the doorway and handed Remy his coat. "Where are we going?"

 

"De lake."

 

///

 

30 minutes later they stared across the lake. The sun was setting and casting a golden/red veil over the water.

 

"What's going on, Rem?" Warren sat leaned back against the trunk of a tree. Remy sat between his legs, the Cajun's back resting against Warren's chest. Warren tightened his hold on the Cajun. "It's orchids now," he said, identifying the fragrance. "Why are you so quiet?"

 

Remy glared at the lake. His mood changed from serene to angry. He tried to keep it locked up inside, trying to hold onto the silence.

 

Warren sensed the anger, now that Remy no longer shielded this new power. "Care to tell me why you're angry?" He feared he already knew the reason.

 

"He lied." Remy threw back his head and rested it on Warren's shoulder. "Because of him I lived in constant fear."

 

"It's okay to be angry, love," Warren reassured Remy. "I'm angry with him too."

 

"I just… wish dere was a way to get all dis anger out," Remy whispered nervously. "I feel like I'm 'bout to explode…"

 

"Maybe I can help," Warren sneaked a hand into a pocket and withdrew a deck of cards. "You can get the anger out this way, Rem. Throw them at the lake. No one will get hurt. If you keep this bottled up, it will tear you apart."

 

Remy stared at the cards and then accepted them. Slowly, he charged one with kinetic energy. "He hurt me," Remy whispered and threw the card, which exploded in the air before it had a chance to hit the water.

 

"That's it." Warren nodded his head. "Let it out."

 

"He abused me," Remy said viciously and flipped another charged card at the lake.

 

"What else?"

 

"He made me fear my own power," Remy whispered at a loss, holding onto the charged card and only throwing it at the last moment.

 

Warren nuzzled the back of his lover's neck. "Are you only mad with him?"

 

"Non," Remy admitted.

 

"Then say it."

 

"She left me dere to die!" A powerful explosion disturbed the peaceful surface of the lake. "She used me… like I used her."

 

Warren knew it was the truth the moment Remy spoke the words. "Throw another one."

 

"I won' be able to walk back if I keep dis up." His charging power ate energy.

 

"Trust me on this one," Warren whispered.

 

"De X-Men didn' come back for me!" Remy hissed in a pained tone and threw the rest of the deck. "Dey don' care!"

 

This outburst surprised Warren. "Scott and Bobby returned to Antarctica to look for you." Remy now struggled to free himself of the embrace, but Warren was determined to see this through. "Jean mourns your death."

 

"Dey don' care," Remy maintained.

 

"They do, Rem, they do." Warren licked the skin underneath the Cajun's right ear and his love trembled in his arms. "Now I'm smelling forget-me-not."

 

Remy remained quiet, then shifted in his lover's arms so he could see Warren's face.

 

"You're crying!" Warren realized startled and wiped the tears away with his fingertips. "Why?"

 

"Because I found you, cher." Remy brushed his lover's lips. "You're right," he said and grinned. "It does feel better now dat de anger got out."

 

"Wanna go home?"

 

"Home," Remy repeated the word. "Home is where you are," he whispered sincerely.

 

Warren smiled, rose from the ground and pulled Remy to his feet. "Wanna watch another movie before turning into sleep?"

 

Remy nodded his head. "Sure… you goin' to fly me home? Might be a nice backrub in it for you," he hinted mischievously.

 

"A backrub, huh?" Warren laughed warmly. "I'd like that." He moved in front of his lover and automatically Remy's hands clasped around Warren's waist. "Let's fly home."

 

Remy relaxed into the warm body. Throwing those cards had worn him out. "Take me home," he whispered lost in thought.

 

///

 

Warren woke up because Remy was moving about in bed, tossing and turning. Every so often a moan escaped Remy's lips. "Rem? Are you having a nightmare? Wake up, Rem!"

 

Remy's eyes flashed open. "What? Cher?" he whispered confused and searched his surroundings. Suddenly, he grew aware of the strong arms wrapped around him. "Nightmare, oui… I was dreamin' of… him," he disliked mentioning the Antiquary by name.

 

Warren held Remy close, gently wiping the sweat and tears from Remy's face. "You're safe, love."

 

Frantically, Remy shook his head. "I felt him, ange… felt his hands on me."

 

Swallowing hard, Warren tried to come up with something that would reassure his lover, but the wolf suddenly left his pillow and jumped onto the bed. "What are you doing, Wolvie?" Warren noticed that the wolf's fur stood rigid and a low, dangerous growl left the canine's throat. "What are you sensing?"

 

Remy's eyes were growing wide, sensing the wolf's discomfort. The canine picked up on something. "Ange?" he pushed himself deeper into the embrace. It was hard to make the transition from nightmare to reality, especially when a nightmare seemed so real.

 

"What the fuck?" Warren pulled Remy protectively behind him, as a form took shape at the foot end of the bed. Warren instinctively knew this presence posed a threat. The wolf howled harder, his teeth flashed in the moonlight.

 

The form grew more solid, dressed in blue and green robes; his face was hidden inside a hood. "I want what's mine," an emotionless voice announced. "I want you," he lifted a bony finger and pointed at Remy.

 

"You can't have him!" Warren shouted, spreading his wings protectively to hide Remy from sight. "It's you…" he knew with certainty. "Bastard, leave him alone. Didn't you do enough damage?"

 

The Antiquary laughed coldly. "Not enough."

 

Remy tried to get a hold on his raging emotions. He didn’t want to feel this fear, this terror. He should be able to face his nemesis and fight him! Not hide behind his lover's back!

 

"You leave him alone!" Warren demanded and suddenly realized that the wolf was getting ready to jump the intruder. Warren tried to pull the canine back, but it was too late. A dangerous growl filled the room and the wolf leapt at the Antiquary, targeting his throat.

 

"Cher?"

 

Remy's trembling voice reached his ears and Warren looked over his shoulder. "We can take him, love!"

 

Cautiously, Remy crawled away from Warren's protective embrace. The Antiquary's form was growing translucent, almost taking the wolf with him as a portal opened. In disbelief, Remy stared at the closing portal, leaving no trace of his nemesis. He lowered himself onto the floor to check on the wolf. "Mon ami," he whispered nervously. Had this really happened? "Was he really here, ange?"

 

Warren joined his lover, relieved that Remy was dealing surprisingly well with this unexpected attack. "That was the Antiquary, wasn't it?"

 

"Oui," Remy whispered upset and checked the wolf for injuries, but there were none. "Mon Dieu, how did he find us? Why come after me now?" Remy shook violently and the wolf rested his head on Remy's thigh, looking up with a trusting expression in his yellow eyes.

 

Warren pulled Remy close and rocked him slowly. It settled Remy's nerves and within minutes his lover's heartbeat was once again steady and firm. "He's gone now."

 

"Mais he'll be back, believe me," Remy whispered softly. "And we can' fight him."

 

///

 

Fire Lake

 

An urgent knock on the door woke Logan and Jean-Luc, who'd fallen asleep fully clothed. Two pairs of alert eyes watched as Daimon strode into the room.

 

"What happened?" Jean-Luc quickly got to his feet, followed by his lover.

 

"The Antiquary made his move," Daimon informed them, pleased.

 

"Did Remy get hurt?" Jean-Luc couldn't believe the smug look on Daimon's face. "Why didn't you wake us? Why didn't we act?"

 

"Remy's fine," Daimon nodded his head. "And act we will. I now know where he's hiding."

 

Logan unleashed his claws. "Let's finish this. It's payback time."

 

Daimon gestured them to come closer. They almost backed down when flames left Daimon's eyes and hands, as the son of Satan summoned his Hellfire trident. "We're going to Ireland," Daimon whispered ominously. "Are you coming?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc reacted first and took a step closer.

 

Logan followed reluctantly. The stench of sulphur was overwhelming. A moment later, darkness swallowed them.

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"Rem?" Worried, Warren watched his lover closely. "Are you okay?" The unexpected confrontation with his past had upset Remy. "He's gone, love. The bastard can't hurt you. I won't let him hurt you." Warren held Remy tightly, softly kissing the auburn hair resting on his shoulder.

 

"Non, I ain' 'kay," Remy replied honestly. It was amazing. He could longer hide his pain from his lover. Warren had found a way into his heart weeks ago.

 

"Anything I can do?" Warren offered and shifted his glance from Remy to the wolf who was stretched out on the foot end, watching them alertly. Warren shivered. Sometimes it felt like that wolf was constantly keeping an eye on them. That had to be his imagination.

 

"Non," Remy whispered and deeply inhaled his lover's soothing scent. Being in these strong arms was a dream come true. "Why come after me now?"

 

"I don't know, Rem." Feeling powerless, Warren pressed a kiss on his lover's brow. "Do you really think he'll be back?"

 

"Oui," Remy nodded his head. "Wolvie surprised him. Next time, he'll be prepared." The Antiquary wouldn't give up easily.

 

"Then we must be ready for him." Warren sounded steadfast. "How can we fight him?"

 

"We can'," Remy said distressed. "He's a sorcerer, ange. He'll find us no matter where we hide."

 

"I'm not planning on hiding," Warren stated resolved. "There has to be a way to take him down." Staring out of the window, he shivered at the darkness outside. They had to get through the night unharmed. "Maybe the X-Men…"

 

"Non!" Remy tried to break free of the protective embrace, which suddenly suffocated him. "Don' want deir help. Don' need it!"

 

"Stubborn Cajun," Warren chided Remy affectionately. "But seriously, Rem, we need to think about our defenses." Remy's emotional struggle caused his heart to beat louder.

 

"Why not let him take me?" Remy whispered in an unguarded moment. "I can' stand de t'ought of you gettin' hurt 'cause of dis." Remy realized his mistake the moment Warren's angry eyes locked with his. "Forget I said dat," Remy whispered strangled. "Ain' t'inkin' straight."

 

"I never want to hear such nonsense again!" Warren shook his head in disbelief, but drew in his breath as the wolf growled, slowly getting to his feet again. Did that mean that the bastard was on his way back? Shit! "Rem?"

 

"It's him," Remy muttered calmly. "We'll fight him, cher," he promised, all thoughts of surrendering were gone. "I want to be wid you and only you…"

 

"Good." Warren shifted on the bed and pulled Remy with him. Determinedly, he swung his feet onto the floor and stood defensively next to his lover. "We'll find a way, love."

 

If only Remy shared that hope! But he knew the true extent of the Antiquary's power. He'd tried to escape before and had always paid a terrible prize for his rebelious streak. "Je t'aime," Remy whispered and grabbed hold of Warren's hand. No matter what happened next, he wouldn't let go.

 

The wolf stood rigid; ears low in his neck, teeth bared, yellow eyes flashing. Warren couldn't help but smile. "It's three against one," Warren said softly.

 

"Wolvie must sense him." Remy gathered the cards still left in his coat to use against his old nemesis.

 

A dark cloud took shape in front of the bed and Warren held on to his breath, recognizing their despised enemy. It was a blessing or a curse that he couldn't see the man's face? "Leave us alone!" Warren spat infuriated and spread his wings. He was grateful that one of the first things professor Xavier had taught him had been to manoeuvre in small spaces. 

 

"Mine," the Antiquary's sharp voice emphasised. "I should have killed you when you were little."

 

Remy trembled violently, but then sneered, " Bâtard!" This man was responsible for most of his pain and now that the Antiquary was back, Remy felt lost and out of control.

 

Warren tried to come up with a plan, but the Antiquary blocked their escape route. Maybe they could leave via the window after shattering it. But Remy was right. The Antiquary had found them once and would find them again. This had to end here and now!

 

Remy charged two of his cards, knowing they couldn't possibly stop the Antiquary, but feeling the kinetic charge underneath his fingertips gave him a sense of safety.

 

"Call it back," the Antiquary demanded. "Call the wolf back!"

 

"No fucking way!" Warren suddenly realized that the Antiquary had had ample of opportunity to attack, but the sorcerer was still stalling. "Damn, it's Wolvie!" Warren realized. The wolf was keeping the Antiquary back! "Remy, get out! We'll stall him!" he whispered.

 

"Non, no more runnin'," Remy stated determinedly. "If you go down, we go down togeder. Can' live widout you, cher." His fear grew, urging him to throw the cards and he could no longer hold back.

 

"Not in here, Rem!" Warren warned Remy. The room was much too small! A bright explosion blinded them. Luckily, Remy's hand was in his and Warren pulled his lover into the corridor, while the wolf continued to keep the Antiquary at bay.

 

"Merde! What?" Remy whispered nervously as fire burned the air in the corridor. His heart pounded madly, afraid that the Antiquary summoned had help.

 

"Remy!" Jean-Luc exclaimed worried and he quickly moved towards his son. Behind him, following close was Logan, who looked slightly annoyed at the stench of sulphur all around them.

 

"You're safe, my son!"

 

"Poppa?" Remy's voice betrayed his disbelief. "Why? What? How?" Two possessive arms folded around Remy's waist and he found himself being pulled against Warren's chest. Suddenly, Remy was in a protective embrace. He noticed Jean-Luc's pleased look.

 

"Get Remy out of here, Warren," Jean-Luc ordered. "He is in dere, isn't he?"

 

"Yeah," Warren replied instead of Remy, who still looked stunned. "And the bastard wants Remy."

 

"I'll deal with him."

 

Remy blinked his eyes as a third person appeared in the corridor and he flinched involuntarily, seeing the flaming red eyes. "Who are you?" he whispered, fighting his apprehension.

 

Daimon grinned. "A friend… " Ignoring everyone, he marched into the bedroom. "Time to send someone to Hell," he announced smugly.

 

"Take the kid into the livin' room and stay there!" Logan pushed Warren and Remy towards the staircase and followed Jean-Luc and Daimon inside. He didn't want Remy to see this, didn't want to add to the nightmares. They'd take care of this bogie man.

 

"Ange? Cher?" Remy protested as Warren guided him down the stairs. Remy felt numb, like his mind was slowly shutting down.

 

"Sit down, Rem." Warren joined him on the couch. Although he was dying to find out what was happening in the bedroom, he couldn't leave Remy. His lover needed the reassurance, his closeness. "Your father is right, love. This is their fight, not yours. You need to heal. Killing the Antiquary won't make the hurt go away. It will only make you hate yourself."

 

"When did you get dis wise, cher?" Remy whispered shakily. His lover was right. Ending his nemesis' life would only add to his load of nightmares and he didn't need them. Remy wanted to forget about the pain and ugliness, needed to focus on Warren's love instead. "Mais I feel like a coward."

 

"You're not, love. You're my hero for letting them do this. Just stay with me and keep me safe, love?" Warren added mischievously, trying to distract his lover and it worked.

 

"Will always keep you safe, cher," Remy promised, but shivered as screams and explosions echoed from their bedroom. Wrapped up in each other's arm they bided their time.

 

///

 

A diabolical grin was glued to Daimon's face. "You really don't know who I am," he realized pleased. Good, this would be so much fun!

 

The Antiquary's voice sounded edgy and puzzled as he spoke next. "I have no business with you, move away!"

 

"Non!" Jean-Luc shook his head. "I should have done dis 23 years ago! Instead, I let you hurt Remy!"

 

Logan moved into place beside Jean-Luc, claws extended and flashing in the moonlight. "Can I gut him now?" he whispered ominously.

 

"He's mine," Daimon stated, leaving no room for doubt. "Your claws won't hurt him."

 

"Lemme try," Logan hissed, filled with anger and blood lust now that he faced the man who'd hurt one of his friends.

 

Hearing the primal rage in Logan's voice amused Daimon. "Stand back. I need to take care of this."

 

"Who are you?" The Antiquary's voice trembled… a first.

 

"My father gave you this power and I'll take it away." Daimon raised his trident, which leaked flames filled with unholy energy. Hellfire, the pure manifestation of Daimon's power. "I'm sending you home."

 

The Antiquary screamed in agony as the flames crawled across the floor, eating his robes, eating away his flesh. The Hellfire tore soul and body apart and the Antiquary's power faded to nothingness.

 

Jean-Luc truly enjoyed hearing the strangled yelp that followed. The Antiquary's eyes filled with unspeakable horrors as his soul prepared to travel to Hell.

 

The Antiquary's body combusted with Hellfire, stayed aflame for mere seconds and then black ashes hovered in the air, finally settling down onto the floor. His soul was lost forever, as it was impaled on Daimon's trident, riding the pain and horror, which would lead to Hell.

 

Daimon grinned smugly. Perfect torment awaited his victim once they'd arrive in Hell. There was no doubt in his mind that Jean-Luc and Logan could take care of Remy. His work here was done… for now.

 

Jean-Luc and Logan exchanged stunned glances as both Daimon and the Antiquary disappeared in front of their eyes. The distinct stench of sulphur was the only thing that remained as justice was finally done.

 

///

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc almost stumbled down the stairs, eager to take his son into his arms. "It's over, petite," he whispered, instantly falling back into using the old verbal caress. "He's gone, Remy, forever."

 

Warren assisted his lover as Remy struggled to his feet. It'd taken him all this time to calm Remy down and now Jean-Luc's words caused another attack of nervous frenzy. "Love? Jean-Luc said it's okay. Don't do this." Soothingly, he rubbed his lover's back and then allowed Jean-Luc to wrap his arms around Remy.

 

"How can dat be?" Remy looked up pleadingly, feeling safe and sheltered in his father's arms. "We can' hurt him."

 

"We couldn't," Logan confirmed, "But our red-eyed friend took care of our problem. The Antiquary is in Hell where he belongs." He retracted his claws, uncovered a cigar and enjoyed the first inhale of tobacco. He made himself comfortable on the couch and rested his feet on the coffee table.

 

Jean-Luc sought out Warren's eyes. "I need to talk to Remy in private." Mon Dieu! There was so much to say, so much to confess! Hopefully, Remy could forgive him!

 

"Can we go outside?" Remy suggested in a pleading tone. He had to get out of here now that the Antiquary had defiled the house.

 

"Mais oui," Jean-Luc gave in and grabbed a coat. "Let's talk outside."

 

"You goin' to stay close, cher?" Remy gave Warren a probing look.

 

"Call, and I'll be there," Warren reassured Remy and watched them step outside. Only now he realized that the wolf had followed them downstairs and was now eyeing Logan suspiciously. Logan in turn gave the canine a hard look, almost bearing his teeth. "Logan! Behave! Wolvie saved our lives the first time the bastard showed up!'

 

"Wolvie?" Logan repeated in a condescending tone. "Wolvie? That's just fuckin' great!"

 

///

 

Remy continued to walk and then dropped onto the cold, damp ground, resting his back against the trunk of a tree. "Is it really over?" he asked, looking up at Jean-Luc, his voice begging for the truth.

 

"It is, my son."

 

"Who was dat man? Wid de red eyes?" Remy muttered embarrassed, terrified for inexplicable reasons. Seeing those red eyes had scared the hell out of him.

 

"Daimon Hellstorm," Jean-Luc replied. Seeing no recognition in his son's eyes he added carefully. "He says he is Satan's son…"

 

Remy flinched. "De devil? Mon Dieu…" His old fear resurfaced. Could it be that…? "Am I related to him?" he asked helplessly. "De eyes."

 

"Non," Jean-Luc sat down next to Remy and took hold of his son's hand, rubbing it. "He told me some things…"

 

"What t'ings?" Remy was scared to ask, but the look in Jean-Luc's eyes was encouraging.

 

"Dere's so much I need to tell you, petite and I fear you'll hate me eventually."

 

"Never!" Remy promised passionately. "Will never hate you, poppa."

 

"Remy, you don't know…"

 

"What?" This time it was Remy who turned Jean-Luc's hand in his so he could caress the palm with soothing strokes. Have got to be strong now. I always knew we would have dis talk one day, mais why now? I feel fucked up and too tired to deal wid dis! But knowing this had to come in to the open, he nodded his head.

 

"Remy…" Jean-Luc swallowed hard. Could he really do this? Could he tell Remy the horrible truth? Admit his ultimate failure? He threw back his head in defeat, knowing there was no way out.

 

"Poppa?" Getting concerned, Remy moved a little closer. He had never seen Jean-Luc this upset, never. Not even that night when he'd gone to his father's room to test him by offering himself to Jean-Luc.

 

"De Antiquary," Jean-Luc started with distinct discomfort in his voice, "ordered me to steal you from de hospital, Remy." He couldn't bear to look into his son's eyes, fearing loathing and hate. "My wife was very ill and Henri needed her so much. De Antiquary promised to heal her if only I handed you over to him. I did his bidding. I stole you and delivered you into his hands. I'm so sorry, Remy." His voice failed him in the end and tears formed in his eyes. Remy hadn't spoken yet, but suddenly he realized that his son's agile fingers were still rubbing his knuckles, something he'd never expected. "Remy?" Finally, Jean-Luc found the courage to face his son. "Petite?" Oh, he knew he lost the right to call Remy that, but he clung to the hope that his son would forgive him.

 

Taking a deep breath, Remy plunged right ahead. "I've always known dat, poppa."

 

"What?" Jean-Luc jumped to his feet, shaking off Remy's hand. Standing rigid, he stared into sad red on black eyes. "What did you say?" He must have misheard! Had Remy really said that…?

 

"I've always known dat you gave me to him," Remy whispered, lowering his eyes. His fingers fumbled the fabric of his coat. His newly discovered power told him how upset Jean-Luc really was.

 

"Impossible!" Jean-Luc backed a few steps away from Remy, eyes wild, wringing his hands nervously. "Dere's no way you can know…"

 

Slowly, Remy rose to his feet. His eyes peeked at Jean-Luc's. He desperately wanted to close the distance between them, but Jean-Luc wouldn't let him. They had to talk this through first. "De Antiquary told me," he admitted in a calm tone.

 

"He did what?" Jean-Luc called out in distress. "He told you?" Did his heart still beat? Was blood still flowing through his veins? Jean-Luc felt paralysed. "De bastard!" His rage exploded and he slammed his fist into the tree trunk. Mon Dieu, it hurt and it was just what he needed to ground him to reality. "De bastard told you? What did he tell you?"

 

"When I was… 5?" Remy looked up questioningly. "You came to talk to him."

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc realized with a start. "I was determined to get you out of dere."

 

"He had me in de back room." Remy cradled Jean-Luc's bruised hand in his. "When you left, he…" Remy wavered briefly, "he told me dat you were de reason why I was livin' wid him."

 

"Merde!" Jean-Luc's eyes grew unfocused at hearing this admission. He'd never realized just how badly he'd fucked up back then! "Mais…"

 

Remy read the questions in his father's eyes and fatigued, he continued his explanation. "I hated you. Hated you every time he hurt me and den… I managed to get 'way from him and ran. I ended up on de streets, mais you know dat."

 

"Picking my pocket was no coincidence?" And damn! He'd always thought he'd set Remy up and now it turned out to be the other way around? He couldn't believe this!

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders. "I didn' recognize you at first. It was years since I saw you and when I realized who you were it was too late." Remy licked his lips and sighed. "I was so afraid… I hated you for years and den suddenly you took me in. I didn' know what to make of dat."

 

Sudden understanding flashed in Jean-Luc's eyes. "You thought I was just like him?" Inwardly, his emotions raged, his anger foamed.

 

"Oui." Remy coughed nervously to rid himself of the lump in his throat. "T'ought you wanted to hurt me like he did for years. Had no reason to believe you meant well."

 

"Merde!" Jean-Luc leaned against the tree for support. "Dat's why you were so scared?" Everything fell into place now.

 

"When you didn' try anyt'in', it confused me. I expected you to… you know, do t'ings to me and when you didn'…" Suddenly, Remy realized Jean-Luc was crying. "Don'," he whispered, "You saved my life."

 

"I can't believe dis!" Shocked, Jean-Luc looked into forgiving eyes, filled with unspeakable love.

 

"Took me a long time to understand dat de Antiquary just tried to scare me, to keep me from runnin' away." Remy released a chocked sigh. "Took me even longer to trust you."

 

"Dat night…" Jean-Luc still remembered it vividly; Remy coming up to his room, willing to surrender to his every whim. "You tested me dat night!"

 

Remy smiled weakly. "You never touched me like he did. You never pushed or forced me to do t'ings I was scared of… I hoped you were for real, mais I had to make sure."

 

"And I passed your test?" Jean-Luc didn't bother to wipe away the tears that flowed down his cheeks.

 

"Oui, you did." Remy's smile grew more lucid. "I was so scared you would hurt me, mais instead you just held me all night long, telling me I was safe. I finally realized I could trust you. I'll always trust you."

 

The sheer sincerity in Remy's tone made Jean-Luc choke up. "Petite," he whispered affectionately. "I… will never forgive myself for giving into his demands. I destroyed your life… took you away from your parents…" Remy flinched and it hurt to see the expression in the younger man's eyes.

 

"I forgave you dat night, poppa. Now, it's time to forgive yourself." Remy could barely bear the sadness and self-loathing in Jean-Luc's eyes. "He played you. I know dat now. Forgive yourself, poppa."

 

"I can't," Jean-Luc stated. "Not yet." The pain was too deep. How the hell could Remy forgive him for screwing up his life?

 

"You love me, poppa. It's bien," Remy whispered soothingly and wrapped himself in Jean-Luc's arms. "Please hold me like you used to?"

 

"Mon Dieu," Jean-Luc choked out, struggling for breath and returned the embrace, returned the trust and nearly drowned in Remy's love, which suddenly covered him like a warm blanket. "You're mon ange, petite." The words reminded Jean-Luc of another thing he had to tell Remy, but he couldn't do that now, couldn't tell Remy about his special soul. Later, I'll tell Remy later. Now I need to hold him. He forgives me… Mon Dieu, he forgives me…

 

///

 

Warren was surprised to find that the silence that had settled onto the room didn't feel uncomfortable at all. Actually, it was amusing to see Logan and the wolf try to stare each other into submission. It was a draw, as they both refused to give up. "Are you and Jean-Luc going to stay for a while? I think Remy would like that," Warren asked curiously, realizing that he would like them to stay too.

 

"Ain't sure, Wings," Logan grumbled, displeased that the wolf still maintained eye contact. He started to like the canine; it had guts. He also clearly remembered the fact that the wolf had done his best to fight off the Antiquary.

 

"You're more than welcome here," Warren assured Logan. It was the truth. Being with Remy had put him more in touch with his own true feelings and damn… I love you for it, Rem!

 

Growing uneasy, Logan continued to stare at the wolf. "Yer doin' a great job with Remy, Wings."

 

"Thanks, but Rem is doing most of the work. I can't believe I ever hated him." Warren peeked outside and his heart leaped in his chest, seeing the two Cajuns hug tightly. "Remy needs his father right now."

 

Logan blinked… and so did the wolf. Logan cocked his head, so did the wolf. "The little…" Logan swallowed his next word, as the wolf strolled over to him, still studying him. "Impressive," Logan whispered at the wolf. "Ya keep them safe, ya hear?" It almost looked like the wolf nodded his head and Logan broke the connection. "There are some things ya don't know, Wings. Remy will tell ya. He's going to need yer support." Logan followed the direction of Warren's glance and smiled, as Jean-Luc and Remy returnedto the house. "We won't stay long, Wings. Maybe the night, but… I need to take care of some things." Like finally talkin' to the Cajun about our relationship. It was important he found out where they stood, especially since learning about the death of Jean-Luc's wife.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Jean-Luc still couldn't believe how forgiving Remy was. Couldn't believe the amount of love reflected in those red eyes. Just before they arrived at the doorstep, he stopped Remy. "If you want to find your parents, son… I'll help you… If you want my help."

 

Briefly, Remy wavered. "Non," he said eventually. "You're all de family I need. You and ange. I don' want to drag de past into de present."

 

Jean-Luc accepted his son's decision and then made another important one of his own. "Mebbe Logan can be part of de family too?"

 

A wicked smile flashed in Remy's eyes. "I had dis feelin', mais…" His smile erupted into sweet laughter. "You love him?"

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc admitted in a heartbeat.

 

"I'm happy for you, poppa."

 

And then Remy did something that took away Jean-Luc's last remnants of pain and quilt. Remy placed a gentle kiss on his brow. Mon Dieu, I did dat every time he came to me, crying and hurting…

 

"Are you goin' to stay?" Remy opened the door, eager to return to his lover.

 

"De night? If dat's okay with you?" Jean-Luc felt terribly light-headed. A horrible burden had been lifted from his shoulders. A burden he'd carried too long. "It's been too many years since I had some Guinness. I've got a feeling dat Logan might join me for a beer or two in Dublin. You had de right idea, petite. Being out here with de one you love is… heaven." Merde! I still need to tell him! Every time Jean-Luc thought of heaven or angels his thoughts returned to his son.

 

Remy smiled as the wolf walked up to him, giving him a determined look as if to make sure he was fine. "Mon ami, merci again." The wolf had defended him twice against the Antiquary. For a brief moment, it felt like a wave of amusement flowed into his mind, like the wolf was saying; 'you're welcome.' Remy shook his head, still enjoying the wave of amusement. "Dis is so weird."

 

"What is?" Logan ventured and gracefully accepted the coffee Warren had just brought into the living room. Logan was stunned to realize how much Warren had mellowed. There's hardly any trace left of Mr. Angry. Must be the kid's doin'.

 

Jean-Luc warmed his hands on his mug. "Oui, what is?"

 

"Since a few days, I…" Remy hesitated. "I let go of de charm…"

 

"Magic," Warren corrected Remy in a mocking berating tone. "Magic."

 

"Remy?" Jean-Luc looked up, confused. As long as he could remember losing control of his charm had been Remy's biggest fear. Remy's eyes revealed wonder and Jean-Luc kept quiet to give his son a chance to reply.

 

"Warren didn' jump me, poppa. De Antiquary lied… de charm didn' make him hurt me. He was just a sick bastard!" Remy lowered his eyes, staring at his hands. A moment later, Warren's right hand sneaked into his, squeezing them gently.

 

"Magic…"

 

The voice startled Remy and he leaped to his feet. "Who?" Then he remembered what Jean-Luc had told him; Daimon Hellstorm was the son of Satan and the man now stood in his living room. Something flared in Remy's mind and he swayed on his feet.

 

Concerned, Warren pulled Remy back onto the couch, disliking the sudden paleness. "Rem?"

 

"Don't worry," Daimon said, keeping his distance. His trident was gone. His eyes were still red, but no longer aflame. "It's an instinctive reaction to evil."

 

Confused, Remy looked at the stranger, whose eyes seemed so fucking familiar! "Evil? You? Mais you fought him…"

 

Daimon's smug grin returned. "And he'll remain in Hell, paying for what he did."

 

"Hell?" Remy squeezed Warren's hand. "Poppa told me dat… dat we're not…"

 

Warren watched the exchange closely. Logan had filled him in on Daimon's identity and his reason for being here. As far as Warren was concerned the Antiquary had gotten what he deserved.

 

"We're not brothers," Daimon replied, knowing only too well what question haunted the young Cajun. "Maybe the Antiquary mistook you for me. I don't know." Daimon made his decision and walked up to Remy, whose shivers grew more intense the closer Daimon got. Daimon extended his hand. He wasn't going to tell Remy how special his soul was, but he wanted that angelic part of Remy's soul to fully awaken.

 

Remy's hand trembled, but he put it into Daimon's. Briefly, it felt like a bolt of lighting ran through his body, but as sudden as it'd started, it was gone.

 

Daimon nodded his head. "I'm done here. You've got to figure out the rest yourself, Remiel… Remy."

 

Hearing that name Remy's eyes grew big. "How do you know…?"

 

"You'll find your answers like I did," Daimon assured Remy and then looked at Jean-Luc and Logan. "Do you want me to drop you off some place?"

 

Jean-Luc quickly shook his head. He'd disliked traveling the dark dimensions Daimon had used to get them here.

 

"Good." Daimon turned up the collar of his long cloak and walked towards the doorway. Looking over his shoulder one last time, he realized that this time he'd managed to defeat evil.

 

///

 

"I ain' sure I can go back in dere," Remy said softly, standing in the front of their bedroom.

 

Jean-Luc and Logan who were on their way to their assigned bedroom halted in their tracks, about to offer to switch rooms, when Warren locked eyes with them.

 

"I can deal with this. See you guys in the morning," Warren assured them.

 

Jean-Luc was reluctant to leave, seeing the hurt in his son's eyes, but Logan quickly pulled him inside.

 

"Wings is right. Give him a chance. It's time to let Warren take over," Logan chided Jean-Luc softly and closed the door. "They'll be fine."

 

Jean-Luc walked over to the single bed and sat down, feeling emotionally drained.

 

Logan pushed his single bed towards Jean-Luc's. Satisfied that it could pass for a twin bed he sat down next to his lover. "Wanna talk?"

 

"We probably should," Jean-Luc realized and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I avoided talking about us for too long."

 

Pleased, Logan dropped onto the bed as well and joined his lover in staring at the ceiling. "Us?" He hoped Jean-Luc had made up his mind and was really ready to address this.

 

"You deserve to know what's going on," Jean-Luc clarified and turned onto his side so he could study Logan's facial expression. "I'm sorry I never told you about my wife."

 

"Did ya love her?" Logan mirrored Jean-Luc's earlier move and rolled onto his side as well. Slowly, he lifted his right hand and rested it on the Cajun's hip.

 

"Oui, I loved Louise." Jean-Luc closed his eyes and thought back. "We were happy until an assassin decided to plunge a blade through her lungs. She was dying. De potion of eternal life was useless and de Antiquary was de only one who could have saved her with his magic."

 

"But she died," Logan summarized and noticed the agony in his lover's eyes as they locked with his.

 

Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath. "Since losing Louise I never considered getting into a serious relationship again. I didn't want to get hurt like dat ever again."

 

"But life is like that," Logan pointed out to him. "It'll kick yer ass time and time 'gain. "

 

"I know… I realized dat when I met you," Jean-Luc admitted teasingly and rested his hand on Logan's chest, relishing the soft heartbeat underneath his fingertips. "At first I thought it was all about lust."

 

"Me too," Logan interrupted. "But ya know we have been foolin' ourselves."

 

"Oui, it's more. D'accoord." Jean-Luc moved a little closer and sneaked his hand across Logan's waist to pull his lover closer to his chest. "I told Remy you're part of de family now… or did I speak too soon?"

 

"No," Logan sneaked his right hand along Jean-Luc's body and it came to rest on the Cajun's lower back. "Yer right. I kinda hoped we would try and make this work for the long run. How did the kid react?" Logan would be surprised if Remy had serious problems with them being lovers, but you never knew. We're talkin' 'bout his dad here.

 

"Remy told me he's happy for me." Jean-Luc looked into his lover's eyes. "What are we going to do next? I don't want to go back to N'Arlings."

 

"I ain't in no hurry to return to Westchester either. Maybe we can get us some bikes and travel? I would like that. It's been a while since I did that."

 

"Sounds great," Jean-Luc whispered and closed his eyes. "I just feel so tired."

 

"We've been through some rough times, Cajun. Why don't we get some sleep? It's…" Logan looked at the clock, "04.32. We'll decide what to do in the mornin'."

 

Jean-Luc nuzzled his lover's neck. "I can't believe everything turned out dis right."

 

"Ya better believe it, darlin'." Logan pulled up the comforter and covered their bodies with it, keeping them warm. Using his heightened hearing he listened to the exchange going on in the corridor.

 

"Rem?" Warren had been patient, trying to understand his lover's hesitance to re-enter their bedroom. Warren looked down at Wolvie, who also seemed annoyed at Remy's reluctance. The sulphur was gone and as Warren opened the door he saw nothing that reminded him of the Antiquary's presence.

 

"I don' want to back in dere," Remy repeated in a strangled tone.

 

"He's gone, Rem and won't be back," Warren said reassuringly. "You're safe."

 

Remy's eyes pleaded for understanding. "Rationally, I know dat, mais…"

 

"You're still upset." Warren folded his arms around his lover's waist. "We can move to the third bedroom in the attic," he offered, trying a different approach. "But I would hate to see the bastard win this one. That's our bed, Rem and Wolvie's is in the corner. Are you going to let him take that away from us? I held you during the night in that bed. I want to do that again."

 

"I hate it when you do dat," Remy whispered softly.

 

But Warren heard the amused tone in his lover's voice. "Come on, love," he said and stepped inside, pulling Remy along with him. The fragrance of lilies was back, but Warren wanted to smell roses. He was starting to figure out which fragrance went with which mood and roses stood for passion and arousal.

 

Remy let Warren. His eyes quickly searched the room. Yes, the bed was a mess, but no trace of the Antiquary had remained behind. Slowly, he collapsed onto the bed. "Can' believe dis nightmare is over," he admitted and watched detached as Warren pushed him into the centre of the bed. Within moments, Warren was lying next to him, warming his body and cradling Remy's face in his hands. "What did I do to deserve you?" Remy whispered lost.

 

Warren smiled warmly, realizing Remy didn't really expect an answer. "I love you, crazy Cajun."

 

"Just hold me tonight?" Remy requested and melted into the embrace. Warm blue skin twitched underneath his fingertips as Remy teased a rock hard nipple through the fabric of the shirt.

 

"You're a tease, Rem," Warren moaned, as he got hard. "Stop that."

 

Remy raised his head and kissed his lover's lips. "You know… I'm startin' to believe dat dis might be forever. De two of us," he added, seeing Warren's draped expression. "I know you told me, mais…"

 

"It's okay, Rem," Warren soothed his lover. "Think you can get some sleep?" Cuddling up to his lover underneath the comforter, he simply enjoyed holding the Cajun close.

 

"Ange?" Remy felt incredibly at ease.

 

"Yeah?" Warren locked eyes with Remy and saw the mischief lurking there.

 

"Poppa and Logan are lovers."

 

"What?" Warren exclaimed, quickly lowering his voice. "What?" He'd never expected that one!

 

"Poppa told me. I t'ink dey are right for each oder." Remy let go of his worries and surrendered to his lover's warmth. "He deserves someone who loves him, ange. He's been 'lone for too long."

 

"Well, if you're okay with them being together…" Warren thought it over. "But I never knew Logan liked men."

 

"I never t'ought you liked crazy Cajuns!" Remy countered, slowly dozing off.

 

"Only one crazy Cajun," Warren corrected him affectionately. Remy's breathing slowed down and a steady heartbeat filled Warren's ears. "No more nightmares, Rem. I promise." Only then he realized that something heavy had settled down on their feet. He cocked his head and grinned, seeing the wolf lying down at the foot end of their bed. "That wasn't part of the deal," Warren said jokingly. The wolf ignored him and closed his eyes. Still grinning, Warren whispered, "We might need a bigger bed."

 

///

 

Logan woke when the first beams of sunlight filled their room. Instinctively, his eyes probed Jean-Luc's face, but the Cajun was still soundly asleep. Musta been exhausted. Carefully, Warren disentangled his body from his lover's and walked towards the bathroom.

 

"Where you goin, cher?" Jean-Luc mumbled sleepily.

 

"Go back to sleep, Cajun. Just takin' a shower and then I'll prepare breakfast."

 

Jean-Luc moaned approvingly and closed his eyes again. He'd had such a nice dream about Logan, handcuffs and…

 

Logan showered quickly and changed into some sweats, which he'd found in the dresser. As he made his way downstairs, Logan suddenly realized that someone had beaten him to the kitchen. He smelled coffee, bacon and eggs, toast and a number of other delicious and mouth-watering aromas. But what was that one smell about? Flowers? "Yer up early, kid."

 

Remy didn't bother to turn around. "Warren's still in de shower. I wanted to get breakfast ready." Remy filled four glasses with orange juice and put them on the table. "I never t'anked you for comin' to de rescue," he said awkwardly.

 

Logan growled softly and helped himself to some buttered toast. "Forget about it. Why don't ya tell me how yer doin'? Ya look like yer gainin' weight."

 

"Warren's stuffing me wid pizza and popcorn," Remy replied teasingly. Only hesitantly he made eye contact. "You love poppa?"

 

"Yeah." Logan answered the probing glance. "I do."

 

Remy sensed the sincerity in those words and his new powers told Remy that the Canadian was really determined to make this work. "I'm glad…"

 

"Thanks, means a lot me that ya approve," Logan admitted honestly.

 

"Are you still goin' to leave later today?" Remy sat down at the table and played around with the fork. He didn't want them to leave yet.

 

"Yeah, look kid." Logan joined Remy at the table and waited until Remy felt confident enough to meet his gaze. "Ya talked things through with Jean-Luc. Right now ya need to be with Warren."

 

Remy knew Logan had a valid point, but… "I still can' believe he left N'Awlings like dat. What 'bout de Guild?"

 

"He didn't tell ya?" Logan felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. "He stepped down as Patriarch."

 

"Merde!" Remy's shock showed in his eyes. "He did what?"

 

"Remy." Jean-Luc hurried into the kitchen; annoyed that Logan had brought this up now. It was a good thing he'd just been on his way to talk to his son.

 

"Why did you do dat?" Remy remained seated, not trusting his legs to hold him right now.

 

"I should have resigned years ago. I always put de Guild first. Another mistake." Jean-Luc straddled the chair next to Remy and gathered his son's hand in his. "Now dat I have Logan I want to start all over again."

 

"You didn' quit because of me?" Remy felt relieved. He didn't want to be the reason for such a drastic decision.

 

"Partly," Jean-Luc confessed. "But I realized dat I wanted a life. A real life. The Guild's been my life for too long. It consumed me."

 

Slightly reassured, Remy peeked at his father's eyes. "What are you goin' to do now? Stay?"

 

"Non, petite. You and Warren got a lot of issues to work out. I would only be in your way, mais, and I want you to know dis… should you need me I will be dere."

 

"Merci," Remy whispered touched.

 

"I'm hungry," Logan announced, trying to break the tension and helped himself to a serving of bacon and eggs.

 

"You'll say good-bye before you leave?" Remy got to his feet to tell Warren that breakfast was ready.

 

"We will. Don't worry, petite," Jean-Luc assured Remy and he kicked Logan's shinbone underneath the table to express his annoyance at the not so subtle attempt to distract Remy.

 

Logan looked up, almost choking on his bacon and eggs. His eyes narrowed as he rubbed his leg. "Yer gettin' an attitude, babe."

 

"Non, I always had one," Jean-Luc laughed.

 

///

 

"Cher?" Remy walked up to his lover who sat behind the laptop. "Breakfast is ready."

 

"Just a moment, love."

 

Remy came to a standstill behind Warren and allowed his fingers to play with the still damp golden hair. Warren's wings shone with moisture and he couldn't help but straighten out a few feathers. "What you doin'?"

 

Warren rested his head against his lover's belly and looked up, finding sparkling eyes. "You should read Bobby's message."

 

Feeling nervous for no apparent reason, Remy looked down pleadingly. "Can' it wait? Poppa is leavin' shortly and…"

 

"Read it, love," Warren said and smiled brilliantly as his lover bent down to kiss his lips. "You smell great, Rem. Roses." Oh, how he loved that fragrance!

 

Remy allowed himself the luxury of exploring his lover's mouth a moment longer and then released Warren's lips. His hands started to massage his lover's neck as Remy stared at the screen. Bobby's message shocked him. "Why? Why is Cyke upset?"

 

Warren peeked at their guests, who were already eating breakfast. He pulled Remy onto his lap and wrapped an arm around his lover, also brushing a stray lock from Remy's face. "I do know that Bobby has some great instincts when it comes down to people's emotions. If Bobby says Scott's this upset, I believe him."

 

"You have always been friends wid Bobby and Cyke," Remy said softly. "I never felt accepted like dat." Surprised, he realized what had just slipped out.

 

Warren licked his lips. "Maybe you need to trust me on this and take a risk."

 

Suddenly, Remy felt depressed. "Can' imagine Cyke bein' upset because of me."

 

"Why don't you answer Bobby's message and then join us for breakfast?" Warren said diplomatically and slipped away from his love so Remy now sat in front of the screen. "I know you'll make the right decision, love."

 

"Your trust in me still surprises me," Remy whispered in an unguarded moment.

 

"I trust you with my life," Warren replied and pressed one more kiss on Remy's lips. "And trust your gut instinct on this, love." After sighing deeply, he left his lover behind the laptop, hoping Remy would trust Bobby's judgement.

 

For long moments Remy stared at the screen. Please. Bobby says please let me tell Scott. What's wrong wid Cyke? Torn, his fingertips remained motionless on the keyboard. Telling Bobby to go ahead and talk to Scott kind of scared him. He hadn't told Warren yet, but Remy didn't plan on ever re-joining the X-Men. He didn't want to have anything to do with them anymore. They'd hurt him too badly. But what if he gave Bobby permission to tell Scott? Cyke still wouldn't know where to find him. He'd still be safe. Mais Warren is right. Bobby does sound upset. Biting his lip, Remy tried to reach a decision. In the end he did and quickly typed his message, sent it and fled from the laptop. The look Warren gave him didn't elude Remy and he hesitantly nodded his head. "Oui, told Bobby to do it."

 

Pleased, Warren smiled. "Here, I saved this for you. Logan almost ate it all." Warren moved the last portion of bacon and eggs over onto Remy's plate.

 

"What 'bout Wolvie?" Remy asked concerned.

 

Logan snorted disapprovingly, but didn't speak, too much enjoying his morning coffee.

 

"I already checked on his injury and fed him," Warren informed his lover. "He was scratching the door so I let him go outside."

 

"Did he come back yet?" Remy asked, hoping the wolf had. He liked the canine.

 

"Yeah, he climbed back into our bed." Warren smiled weakly. "We need to find a solution for that. Bed is not big enough for the three of us."

 

Feeling at peace with the world Remy took his first bite of bacon and eggs and then drowned his orange juice. He'd never felt this happy before.

 

///

 

Westchester.

 

"You've got mail," the computerized voice announced.

 

Bobby ran over to his computer and checked the name of the sender. It was Warren's addy all right. "Okay, now let this be good news," he whispered. "Scott needs some good news." Bobby was seriously worried. During the last 48 hours Scott had slipped into some sort of depression that had them all worried. Well, it's understandable after all. Slim is so used to keeping up his fearless leader front and now that it has slipped all this shit is throwing him hard.

 

\-----Original Message-----

From: WWorthington@Enterprises.com

Sent: Tuesday 16 January 10:37

To: Bluefurryballs@hotmail.com

Subject: Remy

 

Bobby,

 

I never planned on anyone finding out that I'm still alive. Ange told me that you figured that one out yourself so I can't blame him for that. If Cyke is really that upset… You've got my permission to tell him that I am still alive, but listen mon ami, only Cyke! No one else. I don't want them to know, you understand? I am not ready for that yet. I hope you'll respect my wishes, if not I am screwed.

 

Remy

 

Entranced, Bobby stared at the words. Fuck, Remy had written that himself! Bobby got up from his chair and started pacing the room. This was the first time that he really realized what had happened to the Cajun in Antarctica. "We hurt him…" But he had permission to tell Scott, just what he'd wanted. "Remy, Jean's a telepath. How do you think Scott can keep her from finding out? How can I do this?" After long minutes of pacing, Bobby realized that he didn't really have a choice. He forced himself to calm down and then left his room in search of Scott.

 

///

 

"Scott? You've got to eat." Concerned, Hank pointed at the food on the table. "You skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning. Frankly, my friend, I'm worried."

 

"No need to worry." Scott's voice was raspy. "I'll be fine in a few days. Just back off."

 

Jean and Hank exchanged concerned looks. This isn't like Scott, Jean sent into Hank's mind. For some reason this is really eating him/

 

Jean, think about it, Hank replied, using the temporary link. He gained and lost a brother at the same time. You know how important family is to him.

 

Jean nodded her head. Hank was right of course. "But Scott, please eat something."

 

"Jean." Scott smiled for the first time in hours. "I know you're worried, but there's nothing you can do. I need to do this myself. Would you two please leave me alone? I need to think."

 

Sensing his determination she gave in. "But you know where to find me if you need to talk, sweety."

 

"I know," Scott assured her and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. "I love you, Jean, but you've got to let me do this my way."

 

Jean walked over to Hank, still concerned about her husband's unexpected emotional outburst. She'd never seen him this vulnerable before. Soundlessly, they left the living room.

 

Scott rested his head against the soft fabric of the headrest. Why hadn't hen see it? Why had it taken him so long to find out the truth? The papers he'd received in the mail were safely tucked away in his pocket. He wasn't sure what he'd do next, but h was determined to organize that memorial service and… should he contact Corsair and Alex? Tell them about their long lost family member?

 

Would Alex care? What about his father? Why hadn't Corsair told him about his younger brother? Probably because Corsair had thought Remy had died at birth. His mind spun and a terrible headache pounded near his temples. He hated feeling like this. It was the one reason why he kept his emotions locked away most of the time. He hated feeling hurt.

 

"Slim?"

 

Annoyed, Scott cocked his head to tell Bobby to leave him alone. Maybe he should leave instead, take the car and just drive away from this mess until he felt strong enough to lead this team again.

 

"Scott? We need to talk," Bobby said determinedly and threw a jacket into Scott's lap. "But not here. Come on, man!" Excitedly, he bounced through the room. When Scott didn't follow, he returned to the chair, pulled Scott to his feet, draped the jacket over his friend's shoulders and pulled Scott into the corridor. He ignored the disapproving glance Storm gave him and continued to drag Scott towards the door.

 

"What are you doing, Bobby?" Scott asked eventually, too tired to put up some resistance. He hadn't slept these last nights.

 

"Not here!" Bobby insisted and pulled Scott along until they'd reach the lake. "Okay, this will do." They sat down on a bench and Bobby's mentally reviewed several ways of telling Scott the good news.

 

"What's this about, Bobby?"

 

Scott's face mirrored exhaustion and Bobby swallowed hard. Oh yeah, Scott would be pissed because Bobby hadn't told him the truth earlier. But Bobby had to take that risk. "If got something to tell you."

 

Resigned, Scott waited for Bobby to continue. He just wanted everyone to back off.

 

"This morning I got a very important email message."

 

Scott shrugged his shoulders, uncertain how to react. What the hell was this about?

 

"It's from Warren. Remember when Warren dropped by and questioned Rogue about Remy?"

 

"How can I forget?" Scott murmured uncomfortably. "I should have questioned her when she got back from Antarctica. Another screw up."

 

"Man, don't be that hard on yourself! You're only human." Bobby didn't like the self-loathing in his friend's voice. "Warren had a reason to give Rogue the third degree." Bobby drew in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for Scott's reaction. "Remy's still alive. He's with Warren."

 

"What? Bobby?" His tone was urgent and pleading. "Don't do this to me. Remy's dead."

 

"No, he isn't!" Bobby grabbed Scott's shoulders and shook him. "Remy survived!"

 

"He did?" Tone filled with disbelief, Scott freed himself of Bobby's hold.

 

Bobby stopped shaking his friend, relieved to hear a lucid tone for the first time in days. "Remy sent that message, telling me it was okay to tell you, but only you. He doesn't want anyone else to know that he's still alive."

 

Scott trembled violently as Bobby's words sunk in. "He's alive? My brother is alive?"

 

Bobby trembled himself hearing that second question. "Yeah, Scott. Your brother is alive."

 

"I can't…" Scott stared out over the lake. Part of him couldn't believe he could be this lucky. Another part raged. "And you didn't tell me? You knew in how much pain I was and you didn't tell me?"

 

Bobby remained calm. He'd expected this anger. Hell, he'd have been mad too. "I promised Warren and Remy to keep the secret. From what Warren told me Remy was in a bad way. He suffered from amnesia and didn't know who he was. I couldn't betray their trust."

 

Restlessly, Scott jumped to his feet and paced furiously. "Remy's alive. My brother is still alive…" Then he froze. "Where is he? I need to see him, talk to him!"

 

Growing uneasy, Bobby avoided Scott's eyes. "I don't know where they are. Warren mentioned going to Ireland, but that's it. I only got an email addy."

 

"Ireland," Scott repeated resolved. "Are you coming along?"

 

"Slim, you can't go to Ireland! You don’t know where to look and maybe they already moved on to another place." Bobby walked over to his friend, but quickly realized this was a lost cause. "I can email them. Maybe Remy will agree to talking to you."

 

"Stop wasting time, Bobby, get going!" Scott turned Bobby around and pushed him forward. "I'll get the Black Bird ready. I just need a moment here."

 

"Sure," Bobby whispered. "Are you okay, Slim?"

 

"More than okay." Scott smiled warmly. "I won't let my brother down ever again. You just make sure they tell you where they are."

 

"You can't tell anyone else, remember that," Bobby reminded Scott.

 

"I'll stay clear of the professor and Jean. I can do that for my brother," Scott quipped relieved. "I just want to talk to Remy and see for myself that he's fine."

 

As Bobby walked back to the mansion he wondered about Scott. Fierce emotions were bubbling out of Scott's soul and Bobby had a hard time recognizing his 'fearless leader'. However, he loved this more 'human' side to his friend and hoped Scott wouldn't go back to denying his feelings. Yeah, I definitely like this new and improved Scott.

 

///

 

Ireland

 

Awkwardly, Remy shuffled his feet. "Do you really have to go?"

 

"You know I have to, petite," Jean-Luc replied gently. "Thanks for letting us borrow de car."

 

Warren waved it away. "I'll just get another one. I've got connections over here."

 

"Poppa?" Remy embraced his father, relishing these last moments of familiar intimacy. "Keep in touch?"

 

"We will," Jean-Luc promised. "I'll keep an eye on my email and once you've settled down, you can give me de address and phone number. We'll visit."

 

Remy knew he had to let go, but felt frozen. Warren's hand settled down on his shoulder, reminding him he wouldn't be alone after his father had left. "Je t'aime, poppa."

 

"I love you too, petite," Jean-Luc whispered passionately. "And thank you for forgiving me."

 

Logan watched them closely and the moment Jean-Luc freed himself of Remy's arms, he walked up to the young Cajun. "I'll take care of him," he promised.

 

"I know you will," Remy whispered and his eyes followed Jean-Luc, who was getting into the car.

 

"I've been meanin' to tell you," Logan whispered teasingly. "You might wanna change yer cologne… ya smell of roses."

 

"My own portable air freshener," Warren said jokingly and loved hearing Remy giggle. "It's part of the package, Logan. Since he dropped his defences the flowery fragrance appeared. I love it."

 

Logan gave them a questioning look. Had Jean-Luc told Remy about the angelic part of his soul? Maybe it'd be better that Remy figured that one out himself. "Take care of them," he whispered, addressing the wolf.

 

"Wolvie…" Remy petted the wolf's head and sensed the canine's contentment.

 

Warren pulled his lover close to his chest, deeply inhaling the sweet fragrance clinging to Remy. "They will be back."

 

"I know dey will." Remy waved good-bye as the car took off. One last moment of eye contact with his father and they were gone. Finally, he could release his tears.

 

"Oh, Rem," Warren whispered into his lover's ear. "Don't do this. I can't bear it, seeing you cry."

 

"Tears of happiness," Remy assured him honestly as he turned around in the embrace. Facing his lover he asked, "Do you love me?"

 

"You know I do," Warren whispered and brushed Remy's lips. "Do you love me?"

 

"Oui," he breathed passionately. "I want to feel you, cher."

 

"Want to go inside?" Warren studied his lover's expression. "Want to take another step?"

 

"Oui." Remy nodded his head. "Mais I don' know how far I can go… not all de way. Not yet." Mon Dieu, he needed to feel Warren, needed to feel the feathers, the soft and smooth skin. "You set de pace, cher."

 

"Are you sure about that?" Questioningly, he observed Remy's avoiding eyes. "Or are you doing this because you're afraid I am going to leave you like Jean-Luc just did?"

 

Remy flinched.

 

"I'm right," Warren realized saddened. "Come on, Rem. We're going to cuddle instead. I want to hold you."

 

"Poppa gave you some of his books, non?"

 

"Yeah, he did." Warren led his lover back inside and showed the books in question to Remy.

 

"And you've been readin' dem?" Surprise colored Remy's voice.

 

"Yeah, I don't want to fuck this up, Rem. But he also gave me this for when we're ready to take that last step."

 

Curiously, Remy watched Warren uncover the book at the bottom of the pile. "De gay kama sutra?" he giggles.

 

Warren laughed warmly. "You wouldn't believe the positions in this book. Want to check them out together?"

 

"Sure." Remy leaned into the embrace as they sat down on the couch. The insecurity that had haunted him moments ago was gone. Warren wouldn't leave him. He didn't have to use sex to keep Warren from walking out on him. Remy was finally realizing that. "Sorry 'bout…"

 

"Don't apologize." Remy's progress pleased Warren. After they'd snuggled up to each other on the couch, he opened the book and couldn't help but blush. "What about this one?" Remy's head rested on his chest and Warren sensed the giggling before hearing it. "Maybe we should find something more suitable for our first time…"

 

Remy simply listened to his lover's heartbeat, relishing his warmth, the arm around his waist and relaxed. For the first time sex seemed like something he could really enjoy. Talking about it in this way took the edges of his fear. "I am flexible," he teased.

 

"I'm sure you are, but my wings might get in the way!" Warren countered and flipped the pages. "God, Remy. I love you." Words were terribly inadequate, so he pressed a kiss on the auburn locks. "And I promise we will take that next step when we're both ready."

 

"Merci, ange…" Remy whispered touched. "I don' know when I'll be ready, mais I will let you know."

 

"Good Cajun," Warren muttered teasingly. "And now, let's get back to our research."

 

Their joined laughter filled the living room and Wolvie sneaked upstairs again to hide underneath the covers…

 

///

 

I can watch you like this for the rest of my life. Warren sighed blissfully, cradling his lover's hand in his. It was late in the afternoon. They'd spent these last hours giggling over the kama sutra, trying to get their bodies in the right positions, -fully clothed of course-, but he had seen the bulge in Remy's jeans. Hopefully it's a good sign that we can joke about this. Warren fully realized how different their ideas about sex were, fed and controlled by earlier experiences. But at least he knows now that he doesn't have to offer me sex to make me stay. Took him long enough to figure that one out!

 

The couch was a little bit uncomfortable, but it was also the reason why he was spooned this closely against the body in front of him. Remy's locks teased his skin and his fingers caressed his lover's face. The fragrance of roses was overwhelming, telling Warren how relaxed Remy was. The gay kama sutra was on the floor, still open and he grinned seeing the acrobatic position displayed on the page. I want to see his face the first time we make love. He hadn't told Remy yet, but secretly he had been fantasizing about their first time. We'll have to talk about it, before we decide to take that step. About who's going to be on top. I'm scared shitless here, but let's be honest. Remy needs to be on top. I don't want risk hurting him or Remy experiencing flash backs because of the way I'm touching him.

 

"What are you t'inkin' 'bout, cher?" Remy whispered, eyes still closed.

 

"Our first time," Warren replied honestly. It hurt to feel Remy flinch. "Tell me, Rem. Do you ever fantasize about that?" He was treading on dangerous grounds, but refused to shy away from this topic. Remy shifted in his arms until they were face to face. Remy's eyes opened and Warren smiled reassuringly. "Well, do you?"

 

"Non." Remy lowered his eyes, afraid of disappointing his lover.

 

"I do… wanna know?" Warren gently stroked his lover's locks. "No pressure, love. I'm not telling you this because it's a hint of what I want to do. We'll decide that together. It's just my private fantasy."

 

"I never knew you fantasized 'bout… us in dat way," Remy admitted and opened his eyes. Warren's arms pulled him closer and he tangled his legs around his angel. "Tell me."

 

"Okay," Warren smiled privately. "We start out in the shower. First, I give you one hell of a blowjob and you almost pass out so I have to carry you to the bed. Next, I spend hours of exploring every inch of your body and I mean every inch!"

 

Remy blushed weakly.

 

"My tongue slowly sneaks down your chest and I tease your belly button." To reinforce his words, Warren's fingertip dipped into Remy's belly button and the Cajun giggled. "You're ticklish!"

 

"Oui." Feeling comfortable in his lover's arms Remy continued to listen. "What's next?"

 

"Then my tongue and lips return to worship your erection and man… you love it!" Warren laughed, feeling the giddy movement in his arms. "When you're begging me to finally make you cum my tongue teases against your entrance and when I dip inside you moan so deliciously that the sound alone makes me come!"

 

Remy's blush deepened. No one ever had talked about making love to him in that way. "Go on."

 

"You like my fantasy, huh?" Warren teased Remy, but obliges his lover. "This is my favorite part. You haven't come yet and you surprise me by rolling me onto my stomach. I spread my wings and capture you in them. I always get a hard on when I fantasize about you pushing one slick finger inside… What?" Surprised, Warren looked at his lover. Tears of merriment flowed down Remy's face.

 

"You've been lookin' too much at de pictures, cher," and Remy pointed at the gay kama sutra.

 

"Be a good Cajun and let me finish!" Warren demanded and returned the blush. Damn, he was already rock hard from just thinking about this. "Okay, where were we? Oh, one finger, right. Your tongue joins in and I'm completely at your mercy. You keep teasing me with a second and a third finger while I'm screaming at you to just make love to me!"

 

"You want me to take you?" Suddenly, all giddiness disappeared from Remy's tone.

 

"What? You don't like that idea?" Suddenly alarmed, Warren locked eyes with his lover. Warren didn't like the panicked expression.

 

"I've never done dat before, ange. I don' know how… if…" Lost for words, Remy fumbled the fabric of Warren's shirt. "Never been on top, cher. Would be easier if you just took me."

 

"Easier perhaps." Warren carefully chose his next words. "But would it be best for you?"

 

"For me?" Remy couldn't believe Warren was this worried about him. "I've been taken before, cher. I can deal wid it."

 

"Listen to yourself," Warren said firmly and he cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand. "Deal with it? Rem, I want you scream with ecstasy not with worry or pain!"

 

"Sorry, cher. I keep forgettin'…" Remy apologized. "No one ever wanted me to be in control before and I never t'ought you wanted dat."

 

"I'll be honest, Rem. I would like to reverse the roles once in a while when you're ready." Warren nuzzled his lover's throat, leaving gentle kisses behind on the soft skin. "But I really want you to take me on our first time together."

 

"Already picked a position, non?" Remy tried to recompose himself, reminding himself that things were different with Warren.

 

"You can pick it… but I might have some suggestions!" Warren kissed his lover's brow. "You want to mess around on the couch like teenagers?"

 

Remy grinned, hearing it phrased like that. "I do feel like dat, cher… like I'm discoverin' dis all over 'gain."

 

"So am I, Rem." Warren took hold of Remy's right hand and slipped it underneath his shirt, relishing his lover's touch. He moaned as Remy rolled a nipple between his fingertips. "I never had a lover like you."

 

"Someone dis screwed up, you mean." The words slipped from Remy's tongue. "Ange, I…" Remy wished he could take them back. He needed time to adjust to this huge change.

 

Warren saw the truth in his love's eyes. "You're beautiful, Rem. Inside and out and so incredibly intense."

 

Remy wondered about the question in Warren's blue eyes. His hands caressed his lover's smooth body and Remy whispered, "What?"

 

"I want to make you come… my way… Will you let me? Do you trust me?" Warren's heart beat frantically. Please say yes!

 

"How?" Remy hated asking it, but he had to know.

 

"I want to go down on you, love."

 

Remy gasped for breath hearing those words. "Your first time? You might not like it."

 

"I will tell you when I change my mind. Will you let me?"

 

Remy wavered. "What about me makin' you come?"

 

"Why don't we concentrate on your needs for once?" Warren suggested.

 

"I'm not used to bein' de centre of attention."

 

"Yes or no, Rem?"

 

"Oui," Remy gave in, feeling extremely nervous.

 

"Great!" Enthusiastically, Warren moved until he was kneeling in front of his lover and reached up to kiss Remy's lips. His hands snaked around Remy's waist and pulled him close. "You've got no idea how much it means to me that you trust me," Warren revealed in a choked tone. His hands moved underneath the fabric of Remy's shirt and caressed the skin there. Wickedly, he straddled his lover's lap.

 

"What are you doin', ange?" Mesmerized by the continued caress of his skin, Remy drowned in blue eyes as Warren suckled his lower lip. "Cher," he whispered breathlessly. In spite of the butterflies roaming his stomach he was growing hard and his erection pressed against the jeans, pleading for more attention.

 

"Trust me to take care of you, Rem," Warren pleaded almost solemnly. "I won't let you down." His right hand unzipped his lover's jeans and then stroked the revealed hardness. "Tell me, do you like me touching you like this?"

 

"Oui," Remy groaned his need. Warren's hand squeezed gently and pre- ejaculate leaked from his aching cock. "I trust you, ange."

 

Warren smiled. "Lift your hips for me, love." Remy obeyed and Warren quickly removed the Cajun's jeans and underwear. Returning to his previous position, he kneeled on the floor between Remy's spread legs. "You're beautiful." Surprised, Warren observed the return of his lover's blush. "You're perfect, love."

 

Eyes watering, Remy lifted a hand and caressed his lover's face. "You don' have to do dis, cher."

 

"I want to," Warren stated determinedly and rolled Remy's full sac in the palm of his hand. "I must warn you though. I've never done this before. You're my first."

 

Remy swallowed hard. "Shouldn' let you do dis."

 

"Why's dat?" Warren curled his fingers around his lover's erect cock and stroked teasingly. Warren smiled knowingly, as Remy was lost for words. "Why not let me find out myself?"

 

Speechless, Remy spread his legs a little more to better accommodate his lover. He yelped softly as Warren's tongue explored the tip of his cock.

 

Warren was more nervous than he wanted to admit, but for different reasons. Let's face it. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. Following instinct, he teased the slit and continued to stroke in a slow rhythm. He didn't want Remy to come yet. He wanted to make this last.

 

Remy's eyes grew big as his lover's lips closed around his erection, slowly taking in more. "Cher?"

 

Warren looked up quickly, as the tone sounded odd. "What? I'm eating my favorite kind of flavour here… Strawberry. Yes," he whispered softly. "I'm thinking about licking an ice cone."

 

Remy chuckled softly. How could he not trust Warren? "You're doin' a great job." His back arched and Remy lifted his hips as Warren's wet lips returned, licking, nibbling and teasing him. "Not goin' to… last long, dis… way," Remy panted. Merde! His eyes almost popped out of their sockets when Warren sucked hard. Remy's toes curled and he couldn't help but stare at Warren's bobbing head.

 

Warren tried hard to concentrate on making Remy come, but couldn't help stealing a hand to his own groin, fisting himself furiously. Suddenly, his lover's cock pulsed in his hand and he wondered if he wanted to pull back or feel Remy's come flood his mouth. It wasn't that hard a choice. Feeling the Cajun tense up with orgasm, Warren wickedly sucked hard.

 

"Cher!" Remy's head reeled, his body was on fire, but he could only think of warning his lover that he was about to come, remembering the first time he'd gone down on the Antiquary and his fear of choking in the man's come. But suddenly Warren's left hand found his and his lover twined their fingers. "Cher," Remy whispered as he let go, staring entranced at his lover, who didn't pull back.

 

Too inexperienced at this particular activity too swallow much, Warren finally released the pulsating cock and reached orgasm himself with the taste of Remy's come on his lips.

Remy fell back against the couch, stroking his lover's hair. "Cher, come here," he whispered affectionately and pulled Warren next to him on the sofa. "You came too?" he realized surprised. Curiously, he couldn't help himself and gathered a drop of Warren's come on his finger, sniffing and then tasting it. It wasn't bitter at all, even sweet.

 

Tired, Warren leaned against his lover. "Wow…" he whispered. "Every time I come, I come harder!'

 

"Me too," Remy admitted and used his shirt to clean them off. "Merci, cher." Passionately, he kissed Warren's delicious lips.

 

Moving instinctively, Warren gathered Remy in his arms. "I didn't freak you out?" he asked and wiped the sweat of his lover's brow. "Man, you look hot."

 

Spent, Remy smiled. "Hot?"

 

"Yeah… I just hope making love won't kill us," he joked teasingly. "I liked doing that for you, could you tell?" A draped smile covered Remy's face and feeling contented, Warren straddled Remy's hips again.

 

"We’re goin' to be stuck," Remy pointed out to him, come still glued to their bellies.

 

"I don't mind being stuck to you," Warren whispered. His tongue was quickly allowed entrance and he explored Remy's mouth like he'd done that first time.

 

Remy gave in and deepened the kiss, suddenly realizing that Warren was snuggling up to him. In the end, Warren's head rested against his chest. "I like cuddlin'," Remy realized, a bit surprised.

 

"So do I." Warren enjoyed this post-sex cuddling. He wavered to speak the next words, but felt Remy would understand. "Bets never wanted to be held after we had sex. She would just leave the bed to take a shower and I felt… lost… disappointed. I love sex, I can't deny that, but I always wanted something more than just the physical act. I wanted the spiritual connection too."

 

Remy stroked the damp hair and released a strangled choke. "Please hold me?" he whispered, hoping to chase away Warren's remembered hurt.

 

"I'm already doing that, love," Warren chuckled, as distressing memories of less happier days quickly vanished. "Let you in on a secret. I also like to cuddle before making love."

 

Remy could no longer control his tears. "Mon Dieu," he whispered saddened and released his tears.

 

"Not again!" Warren looked up and cradled his lover's face in his hands. "What's wrong?"

 

"I always wanted it to be like dis. De Antiquary was a travesty… he just wanted to hurt me."

 

Fighting down his anger aimed at the Antiquary, Warren managed to regain his calm by taking deep breaths. "This is the way it should be. We're good for each other. We belong together and it will always be like this. No quick fuck, no taking without giving. We both know what we want and need."

 

His hands ran over Warren's feathers and Remy nodded his head. "One day I'll be ready to make love to you, cher," he promised in a guilty tone.

 

"Don’t feel guilty for needing more time, Rem. I'm surprising myself here. I never thought I would ever want to do this for another man, but, geeze, I love seeing you squirm and beg for more!"

 

"I didn't help you come," Remy said and looked into his lover's eyes.

 

"I would even have come without touching myself, Rem." Warren tucked his lover's head underneath his chin. "I don't know about you, but I worked up an appetite… What about a quick snack, a shower and then we'll indulge Wolvie and go for a walk?"

 

"Sure, cher… " Feeling incredibly blessed, Remy hugged his love close.

 

///

 

Dublin

 

"Guinness," Jean-Luc ordered for them and joined Logan in a dark corner of the pub. It'd only taken them two hours to get here and they'd already checked into a hotel. Now that everything was taken care of they could relax.

 

"I'm in the mood to get drunk," Logan growled dangerously. "Good thing the hotel is only five minutes away from here."

 

"Drunk?" Jean-Luc whispered disapprovingly and paid the waiter who dropped off their beer. "Keep it coming," he instructed the waiter and gave him a huge tip.

 

"Are yer joinin' me?" Logan swallowed down his first pint in one go. "I needed that!" Logan smoked one of his cigars. "Ya want one too?"

 

Jean-Luc accepted and moments later he exhaled the tobacco. "You really think dey will be fine?"

 

"Yeah, Wings and Remy will be just fine." Logan curled his fingers around the second pint of Guinness. "What are yer plans, Cajun?"

 

Jean-Luc leaned back and sipped from his glass. "We could stay here for a while and den head for de main land. Always wanted to go back to Paris."

 

"Don't steal any art work while we're there!" Logan warned him teasingly.

 

"I probably lost my touch years ago," Jean-Luc replied in a similar tone. "Don't get too drunk, Logan."

 

"Why is that?" Logan eyed him suspiciously, recognizing the expression in Jean-Luc's eyes. "What are ya up to, old man?"

 

This time," Jean-Luc laughed warmly. "I'll show you what dis 'old man' can still do."

 

Closely, Logan watched him uncover something from his pocket. "What's that? Hand cuffs?" He threw back his head in amusement. "Play with fire and ya might get burned. I might slap them onto yer wrists instead."

 

Jean-Luc just smiled smugly. "We'll see."

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Puzzled, Jean read the note again. It was from Scott, telling her that he'd had to leave the mansion, but that he'd be back once he'd taken care of business. She slumped onto a chair. "What's going on, Scott?" She'd tried reaching out to her husband, but Scott's shields were incredibly strong and she couldn't get passed them. Should she ask the professor to talk to Scott again? Eventually she decided against it. Whatever Scott had to do, he had chosen to do it without her.

 

///

 

"C'mon," Bobby whispered impatiently. He quickly wrote down the email addy and planned on contacting Remy and Warren from the Black Bird. Scott was already pacing the corridor, waiting for him to show up. "I can't let him leave on his own," Bobby realized and grabbed the piece of paper before hurrying out of his room.

 

"Are you ready?" Scott came to a stop.

"Yeah, but Scott, please reconsider. What are you going to do when Remy says he isn't ready to talk to you?"

 

"I'll find my brother, even if I have to search every inch of Irish soil personally!" Scott promised, driven by a need that consumed him. "I need to know he's safe!"

 

"Damn!" Bobby cursed. "I need to make a phone call, Slim."

 

"We don't have time for that!"

 

"I need to tell Nicholas I'm leaving!" Bobby stated determinedly. "You'll have to wait five fucking minutes!" Bobby took off and ran back into his room, quickly punching in Nicholas' phone number on his cell phone. "Be there, love!"

 

"Nicholas Lace."

 

"Nick, it's Bobby. Listen, I'm really sorry but I've got to cancel our date for tonight!" Damn, he didn't want to do this, didn't want to disappoint his new lover. Their relationship was still so fragile, so new!

 

"Why?"

 

"A friend needs me. I need to go to Ireland and make sure Scott won't lose his mind. He just found out that his brother is still alive. We thought he died months ago." The silence that answered him scared Bobby. "Nick?"

 

"I understand, Bobby. I really do. I knew this would happen in your line of work. But make sure you call me when you get back?"

 

"Thanks, love!" Bobby felt relieved. He'd hoped Nicholas would understand. But this had just been their first test. "Want me to come over when I'm back?"

 

"Yes, definitely. Love you, babe."

 

"I love you too… oh, we're so mushy!" Bobby chuckled softly.

 

"I love mushy…"

 

Bobby terminated the connection and took a deep breath. "I'm ready to go," he announced, but his eyes grew big when he returned to the corridor. No Scott! "Damn!" Bobby cursed and started running, hoping Scott hadn't taken the Black Bird out just yet. Luckily, he arrived in time and slipped onboard. "You need to slow down, Scott!"

 

"I can't."

 

The tone halted Bobby in his tracks. "Scott?" Bobby walked up to him and watched Scott prepare for take off. "You're scared Remy will be dead when you get there?" he said, taking an educated guess. "Man, you're really screwed up!"

 

"Strap yourself in for take off," Scott ordered, trying to bite down the pain. "I failed him once, Bobby."

 

"You weren't even there!"

 

"I need to know…"

 

"What?" Bobby held on as Scott took the Black Bird outside, climbing higher until Scott put the plane on automatic pilot.

 

"I need to know if he can forgive me."

 

"I don't understand," Bobby whispered, feeling sorry for his friend.

 

"I screwed up."

 

"This is getting old, man!" Bobby chided his friend. "Just be glad he's alive! You're not responsible for what happened!"

 

"I am," Scott objected. "I'm team leader."

 

"And human! Now stop this guilt trip. I'm going to try and contact Warren and Remy!" Annoyed with his friend's behavior Bobby accessed the computer. "I know why you feel this way, Slim. Most of us feel guilty, but it was Eric the Red who planned everything. We didn't have a chance!"

 

Scott was reluctant to give in, but Bobby had made a valid point. "This isn't over yet. I plan on going after Eric the Red next."

 

"You won't," Bobby said resolved.

 

Surprised, Scott locked eyes with Bobby. "What did you say?"

 

"You'll focus on Remy. You're not team leader right now. You're his brother. Forget about the 'I screwed up' routine, man. This is about your brother. You need to separate that."

 

"When did you grow up?" Scott blinked his eyes.

 

"I know most people on the team think I never passed the age of five, but… It's a front, like your fearless leader stuff. They expect pranks and I indulge them. Hardest part was coming out."

 

Growing calm again Scott nodded his head. "Yes, you're probably right. We do expect you to be the team's clown."

 

"I'm cool with it most of the time, but… it would be nice to be treated like a grown man for a change."

 

"I'll keep that in mind." Regret colored Scott's voice. "Is Storm still giving you the cold shoulder?"

 

"Yeah, she really has a problem with me being out of the closet. But I got so tired of hiding there."

 

"I'm glad you told us," Scott admitted honestly. "It made me think."

 

"About what?" Bobby finished his message and sent it, marking it urgently. Now they could only hope that Warren or Remy would answer it. 

 

"About being gay, straight or bi." Scott looked at the darkening sky. The sun would set soon. "I never really thought about it, but I've got no problems with it. I can't see myself falling in love with a guy, but that's because my heart belongs to Jean." He chuckled softly. "But I never suspected that three of my team members were gay or bi."

 

Bobby smiled amused. "Remy, Warren and I…"

 

"Yeah, and those are the ones out of the closet. I can't help but wonder if there are more people still hiding in there."

 

"Meaning?"

 

"Logan…"

 

Bobby's eyes grew a little bigger. "You think Logan is…?"

 

"I don't know. Call it a gut feeling. I know he loves Jean, but…"

 

Bobby watched his friend closely. "What about you, Scott? Yeah, I know your heart belongs to Jean, but before you realized that?"

 

"You asking me if I ever felt attracted to a man?" Scott smiled. "No, guess I am straight as hell."

 

Bobby returned the smile, watching the screen closely, hoping for a reply. "What are we going to do when we get there?"

 

"We'll start with Dublin, I guess." Scott suddenly felt discouraged. "You were right. We'll never find them."

 

"Don't give up, Slim."

 

"I won't."

 

///

 

Ireland

 

Remy deeply inhaled the fresh air, feeling stronger with every passing day and this day had been sheer heaven. Their fingers were twined and Warren had slipped into pace next to him the moment they'd left the lake. Wolvie was walking in front of them, sniffing the air and occasionally the canine forgot his injured leg when he tried to hunt down a rabbit.

 

"Are you okay, love?" Remy's silence puzzled Warren, but he wasn't really worried, as the fragrance of roses still clung to his lover.

 

"I was wonderin', cher. Side is pretty much healed. What are we goin' to do next?" Remy whispered softly, as he really didn't want to address this.

 

"I would like to stay here a little longer, Rem." Warren stopped walking and locked eyes with Remy. "It almost looks like the red in your eyes is fading, turning to gold."

 

That remark took Remy aback. Maybe he should locate a mirror once they got home.

 

"Seriously, I do think the red is turning to gold."

 

Feeling ill at ease, Remy stared at the ground. "Don' distract me. You want to go back to Westchester?"

 

"When you're ready, yes." Worried, Warren realized he smelled lilies now. "Tell me, Rem. You're worried about something."

 

"You want to re-join de X-Men later?"

 

"You don't want to?" Warren already read the answer in his lover's expression. "I understand, Remy. We really hurt you."

 

Lost for words, Remy peeked at his lover. "I don' t'ink I want to be part of dat team ever 'gain." There, he'd said it. How would Warren react to that news?

 

"Okay, Rem. I'm only saying this once," Warren stated calmly and waited until curious eyes locked with his. "If you decide to do your own thing I'll be with you every step of the way."

 

"Are you sayin' dat…?"

 

"I'll give up the X-Men for you. I just want to be with you. Maybe we can find a way to put our money to good use? I'm through with being a playboy. We could help people."

 

"Cher," Remy stuttered. "You would do dat for me?"

 

"For us!"

 

Remy wanted to kiss his lover when Wolvie limped towards them in obvious pain. "What did you do, mon ami?" Remy sat on his heels to study the canine. "It's de wound, non? You shouldn' chase de rabbits."

 

"Here, use this." Warren handed Remy a clean handkerchief. "It's bleeding again. We need to change the dressing." Warren kneeled and made sure the canine didn't move about too much while Remy peeled off the bloody bandage.

 

"Looks bad," Remy muttered and examined the wound. "Wish I could make it better, mon ami."

 

Stunned, Warren forced himself to remain calm as a golden glow surrounded Remy's hand. "What are you doing?" He had never seen this before.

 

"Don' know, ange," Remy whispered in a tiny tone, equally scared. "I can' make it stop." It wasn't his charging power. This felt differently. The glow dripped from his hand and onto the bloody wound. The wolf didn't howl in pain, just remained motionless. Remy could only watch as the wound closed. Not even a scar stayed behind. "Cher? What happened?"

 

Warren nodded his head. "Of course! That must be it. This is what your newly discovered power is about, Rem. You’re a healer!"

 

Perplexed, Remy stared at his hands. The glow was gone, but his fingers tingled. "A healer?" he repeated in disbelief. "I would love to be a healer," he whispered, forgetting he was speaking aloud. "I would love to help people, take away deir pain."

 

"I know that." Warren pulled Remy to his feet and smiled. Wolvie was running around, jumping and chasing another rabbit like nothing special had happened a moment ago. "I'm not sure you want to hear this, love," Warren started hesitantly. Scared eyes met his… Oh, those eyes!

 

"Just tell me." Remy's voice trembled.

 

"It's your eyes, Rem. They're no longer red on black."

 

Remy flinched. "Mon Dieu…"

 

"The red turned into gold."

 

"Gold?" Remy closed his eyes, feeling lost. "Just stay wid me…" he whispered helplessly.

 

"Stupid Cajun," Warren chided Remy and then slipped his arms around Remy's shoulders. "We'll figure this out together."

 

"I know dat," Remy whispered, sensing Warren's love as it became more tangible with every passing second. "Mais I am still scared. Why am I changin' and when will it end?"

 

"We'll find those answers," Warren replied reassuringly and remembered something Daimon had said. 'You will find the answers like I did.'

 

///

 

" I can' believe dis," Remy whispered stunned. He'd finally located a mirror and examined his changed eyes. "You t'ink dey will stay dat way or change back?" Warren stoodg behind him, arms wrapped around his waist and his lover's chin rested on his shoulder. Looking at their joined reflection Remy felt truly blessed.

 

"We'll have to wait and see," Warren replied slightly amused. "I liked the red on black, but this is special too."

 

Remy turned around and kissed his lover. "You've got mail," he pointed out to Warren as his eyes scanned the screen of the laptop. "Looks like Bobby replied."

 

"In that case, you've got mail, Rem." Warren released him and walked into the kitchen. "I'll fix dinner. Why don't you answer Bobby's message?"

 

Sighing, Remy sat down behind the laptop and opened the message, which took his breath away. "Mon Dieu!"

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Dey're on deir way to Ireland," Remy whispered nervously. "Why is Scott actin' like dis? You've got to read dis, cher."

 

Warren made sure the rice was boiling and then joined his lover in the living room. "You're right. Something is wrong. Are you going to give them our location?"

 

"I don' know, cher," Remy leaned back and looked questioningly at his lover. "What do you t'ink I should do?"

 

Warren wavered to reply. "You've got to decide what to do."

 

"I want your advice, ange," Remy said softly.

 

"Tell them. Whatever's bugging Scott won't go away. I've got this feeling Scott really needs to talk to you. Maybe it's because he feels guilty for failing you as your team leader."

 

Remy stared at the screen. "You'll stay close when he gets here?"

 

"Of course, Rem." Warren bent down and kissed his love. "I need to get back into the kitchen. Wanna try a Chinese dish."

 

Remy watched as Warren returned to the kitchen and couldn't help cracking a remark. "You got a great ass, cher."

 

Warren stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder at Remy's naughty expression and grinned. "You got that one right, Rem!"

 

The teasing soothed his nerves and Remy made his decision.

 

///

 

The Black Bird

 

Bobby's eyes flashed open at hearing the sound of an incoming message. "Did I really fall asleep?" he wondered aloud and moved over to access the message.

 

"Two hours ago," Scott said listlessly. "We're almost there and we still don't know where to start searching for them."

 

Scott's depressed tone made Bobby uncomfortable. It almost sounded like Scott was giving up after all. As he opened the message a wave of relief moved through him. "It's from Remy. We've got his location." Quickly, Bobby punched in the new co-ordinates into the board computer. Scott's surprised gasp took Bobby back. "Scott?"

 

"Remy's okay with this?"

 

Bobby shifted in his seat. "It says we're welcome to drop by and it has the location. That's it."

 

"I can't screw this up, Bobby. What should I do?" Scott looked out of the window. Only a few more moments and he'd be face to face with his younger brother. "I don't want to make the mistake of dumping all this on him. Remy probably has no idea that we're brothers."

 

"You got that death certificate with you?"

 

"Yes… but maybe I should wait until… until we talked. I'm nervous, Bobby," Scott admitted in a choked tone.

 

"I got this feeling Remy might be nervous too," Bobby paused. "If I were you I'd wait with telling him that you're brothers until you both feel a little more comfortable. Take your time."

 

"How do you think he'll react to the news?" Scott sought out his friend's eyes.

 

"Shocked," Bobby replied truthfully. "I'd be shocked if I found out that I was a Summers!" He added a joking tone to the statement and poked Scott's side. "Things will work out. Think positive, man!"

 

"I hope so," Scott murmured nervously.

 

///

 

Ireland

 

They'd just finished doing the dishes and were now cuddling up together on the sofa, watching a program on Discovery channel about mummies in the valley of Kings. Warren was the first to disturb the comfortable silence. "Are you nervous about facing Bobby and Scott?"

 

"Bobby? Non, not really, but Scott? Oui," Remy replied and pulled Warren a little closer. His lover's wings were spread and Remy caressed them tenderly. "I just wish people would leave us 'lone. First it's de Antiquary and now dis is comin' up. I just want to be wid you, cher."

 

Warren nodded his head, briefly inhaling the lilies that clung to his lover. Remy was still worried. "You don't have to do this alone, love."

 

"I know dat, mais I wonder why Cyke wants to see me so badly."

 

Warren pressed a kiss on his lover's throat and licked the skin underneath Remy's ear. A delightful quaver moved through the Cajun's body. "You'll have to ask him that."

 

"I always t'ought I got along pretty well wid Cyke," Remy mused aloud. "We seldom had arguments."

 

"Must be the discipline thing," Warren whispered, almost dozing off in his lover's arms. "You're used to the training sessions as a skilled thief. Guess Jean-Luc drilled that into you."

 

"Oui, were long days when I was trainin' to be a t'ief, mais I liked it. Like to be focussed." Remy's ears picked up engine sounds. "Is dat de Black Bird?"

 

"Sounds like it." Warren forced himself to wake up again. "I love being in your arms like this."

 

Remy blushed, still getting used to his lover's desires. "Love holdin' you, cher."

 

"Let's go outside and greet them." Warren got to his feet, extended his hand and pulled Remy to his feet. "I cleaned up the spare bedroom. They can stay the night."

 

"You t'ink dey goin' to stay dat long?" Remy said, slightly surprised.

 

"It sounds like Scott really needs to talk to you," Warren pointed out to Remy. "And after they leave, we have got all the time to experiment with the gay kama sutra," he hinted mischievously.

 

Remy smiled. And I want to make you come dis time. Together, they walked outside and watched the Black Bird land. "I'm nervous," Remy realized surprised. He'd never wanted to have anything to do with the X-Men ever again and now Scott and Bobby were here.

 

The cabin door opened and Bobby appeared first, knowing Scott needed a moment to recompose himself. "Hello, big guy!" Bobby quickly walked towards them and first hugged Warren. "You look happy," he realized after a moment, evaluating the smile on Warren's face.

 

"That's because I am happy," Warren stated calmly and then twined his fingers with Remy's, who was trembling.

 

"Bobby?" Remy said awkwardly, uncertain what to say or to do. But as their eyes met, Remy saw no remnants of the old unease between them. Something had changed.

 

"Gambit, Remy!" Bobby took the initiative and also hugged the Cajun. "It's good to see you again, Cajun. You had us worried."

 

Remy froze in Bobby's arms, but then forced himself to relax a little as Bobby's sincere relief drifted into his mind. Bobby was really glad to see him. Maybe his newly discovered powers would come in handy after all. "I never expected you to be worried 'bout moi," he whispered slightly ashamed.

 

"Hey, I do consider you my friend, man!" Bobby smiled warmly and then sucked in his breath. "Remy? What happened to your eyes?"

 

Remy quickly exchanged a look with Warren.

 

"They're still gold on black," Warren said, reading the question in his lover's eyes.

 

"Don' really know why dey changed," Remy explained softly to Bobby. "I can' control it."

 

"But you look fine," Bobby said relieved. "When Warren told me you suffered from amnesia I was really worried."

 

"I remember now… everyt'in'," Remy clarified.

 

"I'm sorry about Antarctica," Bobby apologized and heard Scott move closer behind him. "But you should first talk to Scott about that."

 

Scott had been holding onto his breath since he'd first seen Warren and Remy holding hands. Now that he realized that his brother was fine, Scott released his choked breath. Nervously, he extended his hand in greeting, completely ignoring Warren, fully focused on his lost brother. "Remy," Scott whispered and was relieved to feel Remy's hand slip into his, accepting the gesture.

 

Surprised, Remy felt a pull and suddenly he found himself locked up tightly in Scott's arms. His eyes grew big as Remy noticed the strangled sob that left Scott's throat. Remy looked to Warren for help, but his lover only shrugged his shoulders. "Uh, Cyke? What's goin' on, homme?" Remy struggled for breath, as Scott's hug tightened.

 

"Sorry about that." Scott managed to let go and tried to calm down. But it'd felt so good to have his brother that close. Alex would never let him hug him like that. As Scott lifted his eyes to study Remy's face, Scott grew quiet. "What happened to your eyes?"

 

"It's a long story, Cyke. We should go inside first. Ange made coffee." Carefully, Remy stepped away from him, only to find that Scott took another step closer again.

 

Clueless, Warren watched the scene. Scott was really acting out of character. What was causing this strange behavior? Maybe Bobby could tell him. "Yes, let's go inside. It's getting chilly out here."

 

As the four men entered the living room, Bobby and Scott froze in their tracks. "There's a wolf on your couch," Bobby said confused.

 

"Dat's Wolvie. He's harmless." Remy pulled the canine from the sofa and invited his guests to sit down. Warren was already pouring coffee and didn't need his help, so Remy sat down in the armchair. He smiled, as Wolvie curled up at his feet. "Merci, cher," he whispered and accepted the hot coffee.

 

Warren joined Scott and Bobby on the sofa and wondered why Scott's hands were shaking. "Are you okay, Slim?"

 

"Just fine." Scott leaned back into the comfort of the couch and finally relaxed now that he knew that Remy was all right. He was dying to find out what had happened to Remy's eyes, but didn't ask. If Remy thought Scott needed to know, the Cajun would tell him. "I'm glad you made it out alive. I talked to Rogue and she admitted to leaving you out there to die."

 

"I ain' comin' back," Remy replied on impulse. "I ain' comin' back to de mansion or de X-Men."

 

That statement caught Scott off guard, but he forced himself to accept it for now. There was something more pressing he had to address. "Remy, do you hate me?"

 

Surprised, Remy raised an eyebrow. "Hate you?" The wolf at his feet stirred.

 

"For failing you? I mean, Bobby and I did go to Antarctica to find you, but we didn't find a single trace."

 

"You went back for me?" Remy put the mug on the coffee table, as his hands shook with the unexpected revelation.

 

"Yeah, we searched for 2 days," Bobby cut in. "But we never picked up on any readings."

 

"Means a lot to me, knowin' dat you went back," Remy said softly. "I don' know how I survived. A group of scientists found me when de were re-locatin' deir base. Dey flew me out and I ended up in a hospital. Dat's all I know."

 

"You didn't answer my question," Scott pointed out to him.

 

"Non, I don' hate you. I just don' want to have any'tin' to do wid de X-Men anymore." Remy picked up his mug and sipped the hot liquid.

 

An uncomfortable silence descended onto the room and Warren decided to try and break the tension. "Are you staying for the night?"

 

"Depends on Remy," Scott replied carefully. "Do you want us here?"

 

"C'est bien, Cyke. You can stay." Confused, Remy tried to make sense of Scott's odd behavior and why was Bobby this quiet? Normally Drake never stopped talking for long. "Why are you here?" Remy asked eventually as the tension got too much.

 

"I don’t know how you'll react to this," Scott said apprehensively and pulled the death certificate from his pocket. "I got this in the mail a few days ago."

 

Curiosity got the better of him and Remy leaned forward to look at the document. "What is it?"

 

"A death certificate," Scott said in a heavy tone. "Look at the description of the baby and the parents' names, Remy." His heart missed a beat as Remy's eyes scanned the document. This was it. Would he gain a brother or be thrown out?

 

Remy's breathing quickened. "A baby wid red on black eyes? Born in N'Awlings? Is dis 'bout me?" He looked up to Scott, pleading for an answer.

 

"Yes, now look at the names." Scott had never felt more insecure and uncertain and he hated it.

 

"Essex?" It was the first name Remy came across and his chest tightened painfully.

 

"He was the doctor who delivered you." Scott held onto the warm mug as if it could save his life. Unexpectedly, Bobby's hand squeezed his shoulder. "I guess he wanted you for his own reasons. He declared you dead five minutes after you were born."

 

A tear traveled down Remy's cheek. "A forgery?" He couldn't believe this was really happening. If this was true, Sinister had wanted him from the start.

 

"No, it's the real thing," Scott assured Remy, thankful for Bobby's silent support. The hardest part was still to come.

 

Remy's eyes drifted lower until they found his mother's name. My moder… never t'ought I would ever find out who I am! His body tensed up, reading his parents' names. "Cyke?" This couldn't be true! That was the name of Scott's father on the document!

 

"We're brothers, Remy. Hank ran a DNA test and…" Scott grew silent as the paper dropped onto the floor. Remy's stunned eyes tore at Scott's heart.

 

"Love?" Warren hurried over to Remy's side, sat on his heels and gathered Remy's hands in his. His eyes quickly scanned the certificate and then focused on Scott. "Rem is your younger brother?" He had a hard time believing this as well.

 

"The DNA test came back positive," Scott stated determinedly, wondering what he was supposed to do next. "Corsair never told me about you, Remy. I didn't know. You've got to believe me. I'm so sorry…"

 

Thoughts spun through his head at an amazing speed. "Broders?" Remy whispered in disbelief. "Must be a mistake."

 

Scott got to his feet and acted on instinct as he sat on his heels on Remy's other side. "Hank didn't make a mistake. We're family. You're a Summers."

 

"Mon Dieu…" Remy whispered lost.

 

Alarmed, Warren locked eyes with his lover. "You just gained a brother. Isn't that wonderful?" Warren gently stroked Remy's face. "I know this is sudden and unexpected, considering everything we've been through recently, but if it's the truth…"

 

"It is," Scott assured them and waited patiently for Remy to reply.

 

"I need time to deal wid dis," Remy whispered in an emotional tone as another tear made its way down his cheek.

 

"I understand that." Scott got to his feet and backed away a little. "You still want us to stay the night?"

 

"Oui," Remy replied without thinking about the answer. Suddenly, he realized what had just been revealed to him. He knew his real name now, his parents' names and he even had an older brother who stood next to him. As he rose from the chair, he sensed Warren's concern and his lover's arm curls around his waist. "We're broders, Cyke?"

 

"Please call me Scott," he replied and nodded his head. "Yes, you're my baby brother," Scott added teasingly. Carefully, he took a step closer. Remy didn't shy away and growing bolder, Scott instigated another hug. "Can you accept this, Remy?"

 

"I must…" Remy dropped onto the chair again, supported by Scott and Warren. "I need a moment 'lone."

 

"Why don't I show you around the house?" Warren suggested, knowing Remy needed to work through this on his own. "We'll be right back, love."

 

"Take your time," Remy whispered and stared at the paper in his hand.

 

///

 

"Remy'll accept it," Warren said, trying to comfort Scott.

 

They were in the spare bedroom and Bobby dropped onto one bed, tired and suddenly low on energy.

 

"I should have been more tactful," Scott chided himself. "I just dumped it on him."

 

"Don't worry." Warren eyed Scott closely. "Remy's grown a lot stronger since he got back from Antarctica. He can deal with this."

 

"I was really mad at Bobby for not telling me Remy's alive," Scott remarked saddened.

 

"Remy wanted it that way," Warren clarified. "He's through with the X-Men."

 

"What about you?" Scott looked up at Warren. "We need you on the team."

 

"If there's a real emergency you can turn to us for help, but don't expect us to be on the regular team. Remy and I plan on making a new start." Warren locked eyes with Bobby. "Thanks for not caving in. It means a lot to Remy that you kept the trust."

 

"I did feel trapped," Bobby admitted and stretched his body. "This is a great place, man. So quiet!"

 

Warren thought back to the things that had happened here only last night; the Antiquary's scary visit. He wanted to change the subject and asked, "How is Nicholas?"

 

"I love him. We decided to try and make this work." Bobby gave Warren a wink. "And what about you and Remy?"

"We're getting there." Warren turned around and stared at the starlit sky. "Remy's mine forever."

 

Scott couldn't help but smile. "Are you willing to share him once in a while with his brother? I can accept the fact that Remy doesn't want to return to the team. I don't agree with it, but I can accept it. But I refuse to lose my brother after finding him again."

 

"Sure, you can visit." Warren nodded his head. "It will do Remy a lot of good to know you want him as your brother, but your timing kinda sucks. He's going through some rough times and this is just another thing he has to make peace with. He needs time."

 

"What are you saying? Does this have something to do with his changed eyes?" Scott asked concerned.

 

"Yeah," Warren said thoughtfully. "Let's say Remy is still dealing with some painful parts of his past. You'll have to give him time to work through it all."

 

"He can have all the time he needs."

 

///

 

"Wolvie? What should I do?" Remy slipped onto the floor next to the wolf and stroked the canine's belly, who'd rolled over onto his back. "You like dat?" Remy giggled as the wolf growled appreciately. "It's too much, Wolvie." Remy took a deep breath as the canine got back to its feet and stood in front of him with big yellow eyes. "First I find out 'bout de charm… magic," he corrected himself. "Ange already got me trained."

 

The wolf still studied him and Remy knew it was listening closely. "And den de Antiquary shows up and is destroyed. I'm still workin' on lettin' ange touch me and now dis. Why can' I get a break from life?" The wolf licked the back of his hand, offering some small consolation. "You know, mon ami, I always dreamed of my family findin' me. Dat my parents always loved me and never wanted to leave me alone. Now dat I know dat Essex is responsible for dis mess, I feel cheated. It's strange, knowin' dat Scott's my broder and Corsair my fader. I never expected dat one. I don' know how I feel 'bout dat."

 

"Rem?" Warren sat down behind Remy and pulled his lover against his chest, wrapping arms and legs around Remy's body. "Go on, Rem. Don't let me stop you from thinking aloud."

 

"I guess I'm scared," Remy admitted and leaned closer into the body behind him. Remy rested the back of his head on Warren's shoulder. "I'm so used to dealin' wid everyt'in' alone and now… now I got you… Poppa and Logan… and now I also got Scott."

 

Warren nodded his head, but remained quiet.

 

"I don' know what to do, what everyone expects from me."

 

"I expect you to let me love you." Warren kissed the back of his lover's neck. "And I just talked to Scott. He realizes you need time. Bobby and he are leaving tomorrow so you have all the time you need to work through this. When you're ready we will visit Westchester, straighten everything out between you and Rogue and then we'll start the rest of our life together. Scott just had to see you're fine with his own eyes."

 

Remy sighed relieved. "Wouldn' know what to do wit'out you, cher."

 

"What about turning in and getting some sleep? Scott already collapsed and is soundly asleep. Bobby told me Scott's been unable to sleep since finding out."

 

"Uhm, I don't want to intrude or anything," Bobby started hesitantly, but he couldn't hide the huge smile on his face. "The two of you look cute together!" He'd never thought Warren would mellow down like this. Bobby walked towards them and sat down on the couch, carefully keeping an eye on Wolvie.

 

Slightly embarrassed, Remy fought the urge to jump to his feet. Was Warren okay with this open display of affection?

 

"Stay, love," Warren whispered into Remy's left ear. "Bobby, thanks for everything. We appreciate it."

 

"You're welcome. I just wish I had a camera so I could take a picture of the two of you." Bobby waited for Remy to set the pace of this conversation.

 

"How are t'ings at de mansion?" Remy asked eventually.

 

"Calm," Bobby carefully chose his words. "Storm has a hard time accepting I'm gay, but I am not surprised by that. She keeps telling me it goes against nature, but she needs time."

 

"I'm sorry about that," Warren said sincerely.

 

"The others are okay with it. Jean is really supportive and so is Hank. But…" Bobby wavered briefly. "Jean is really having a hard time with your death, Remy."

 

Remy swallowed hard. "I never wanted to hurt anyone," Remy whispered.

 

"She'll get better once you feel strong enough to visit the mansion."

 

"What 'bout… her?" Remy was hesitant to speak her name. His voice already trembled.

 

"Rogue?" Bobby said compassionately and noticed Remy flinch. But Bobby also noticed Warren's protective reaction as his friend tightened the embrace. "Joseph ended their relationship. He says he can't trust a woman who leaves a team-mate to die."

 

Remy looked up and didn't know what to say. "Someone should help her."

 

"Remy?" Bobby wondered what that remark was about.

 

"Mebbe de professor? She needs help. She's really screwed up… even more dan me." Remy listened to Warren's calm breathing, which comforted him. "Don' know when I'll be ready to face dem."

 

"Take your time," Bobby adviced as he got to his feet again. "I'm going to check on Scott. He's been high strung these last few days."

 

"Keep an eye on him for me?" Remy asked softly. "I like havin' a broder, even if it's Cyke."

 

"Slim is okay." Bobby leaned in closer and patted Remy's shoulder. "You just need to push through his defenses and you already did that." Bobby smiled as he left the living room to catch some shuteye. Maybe he'd dream of Nicholas tonight.

 

///

 

Later, when they'd snuggled up to each other in bed, Remy closed his eyes and wished they could stay like this forever.

 

"It's lilies again," Warren noticed and pushed Remy onto his back. Looking at his lover, Warren moved onto his side to play with the Cajun's nipples.

 

"I'm havin' an identity crisis," Remy replied playfully, trying to mask his worries.

 

"No lies, that includes white lies as well." Warren pinched one of Remy's rock hard nipples.

 

Remy opened his eyes again and focused on his lover. He'd learned so much about love, emotional and physical closeness since they'd arrived here. "Je t'aime," he whispered lost.

 

"I love you too, crazy Cajun…" Warren pulled up the comforter and moved into Remy's arms. "Everything will be all right. Trust me."

 

"Sounds weird, non? Remy Summers?"

 

"It doesn't sound that bad! What about Remy LeBeau-Summers? Or Summers-LeBeau?"

 

Remy laughed warmly. "You're a tease too, cher."

 

Warren pushed himself up on one elbow and looked deeply into his lover's eyes. "What about Remy Worthington?"

 

Speechless, Remy licked his sudden dry lips. "Cher?" Had Warren really said that?

 

"Yeah, I'm proposing here. Want me on my knees?" Warren smiled and kissed the tip of Remy's nose. "You don't have to decide now. But I would like to have some kind of ceremony that officially binds us together. You can give me your answer when you're ready."

 

Still lost for words, Remy stared into blue eyes. "Don' know what to say, cher."

 

"We can also go for Warren LeBeau-Summers…" Warren added teasingly. The tears that formed in Remy's eyes took Warren by surprise. "Rem? I am going too fast, huh?"

 

"Non, I want to be yours, mais…" Remy choked up. "No one ever wanted me like dat."

 

"Just think about it." Warren snuggled back up to his lover and his hand tangled in Remy's soft auburn hair. "By the way, we need to go shopping tomorrow. We're running out of supplies and I want to make a stop in Dublin to get some stuff I need."

 

The sudden change in topic reassured Remy that everything was okay. He really needed to think before answering Warren. His heart urged him to say yes, but his mind was at war with his heart, telling him Warren could do so much better than him. Mais he loves me and I love him.

 

"Go to sleep, Rem." Warren felt the tension in his lover's body. He'd never planned on saying this so soon, but the moment had been perfect. He wanted to make this commitment, but knew that Remy needed more time. "Have some sweet dreams, Rem," and Warren drifted off, satisfied and comfortable while holding onto his love.

 

Remy however, stayed awake for hours.

 

///

 

Ireland

 

"Remy, thanks for talking to me. I guess I'll have to be patient and see how things work out." Scott was reluctant to let go of Remy's hand, which he was shaking. "Please call, email or write me the old-fashioned way?"

 

A sad smile played across Remy's face. Only now he realized he didn't want Scott to leave yet. "What are you goin' to tell de oders?"

 

"That depends on you, Remy." Scott was grateful that Bobby and Warren had given them these private moments to say good-bye. "If you want me to keep quiet about you being alive I'll do that."

 

But Remy knew better. "Jean and de professor will read it in your mind."

 

"Maybe, but I'm willing to take that risk. I've got some pretty strong shields." It still felt odd to look into the golden eyes, but Scott loved the change.

 

"Non," Remy decided. "I don' want to be de reason for you arguin' wid your wife. You can tell dem… just don' tell dem where I am." It'd been hard decision, but he'd thought about it last night. "I don' want Jean mournin' my deat' while I'm still 'live."

 

"Thanks, Remy. I'll make sure no one knows where you are." Scott carefully hugged Remy. "Any messages you want me to deliver?"

 

"Tell Jean I'm sorry dat I let her t'ink I was dead," Remy said eventually.

 

"That's it?"

 

"Oui." Feeling awkward, Remy walked Scott to the Black Bird. "I'll keep in touch."

 

"Let me know when you're ready to confront Rogue? I'll make sure you won't face her alone," Scott offered, realizing how hard returning to the mansion would be for Remy, even if it was only to confront Rogue and then leave again.

 

"I will," Remy promised nervously.

 

Scott stopped walking and waited until Remy did the same. "My little brother."

 

"I ain' little!" Remy tried to sound offended, but couldn't pull it off. "So, I got a big broder now…?"

 

"Yes." Scott searched Remy's eyes. "Want me to try and contact Corsair?"

 

"Non," Remy stated resolved. "Not yet."

 

"Too soon? I understand that. Now, give me one last hug?" Scott was nervous. "The only other person I hug this much is Jean," Scott confessesed softly. "Alex hates hugs."

 

Remy didn't react verbally. Instead, he simply allowed Scott to hold him.

 

"Scott? We need to get going!" Bobby called out and signaled his friend to come onboard. Damn! Why didn't he have a camera when he needed one?

 

"I'm coming, Bobby." Scott squeezed Remy's shoulder. "I got your addy… I'll send you a message when I get home, telling you how the others reacted to the news of you being alive."

 

"Cyke…"

 

"Scott," he corrected Remy.

 

"Bien, Scott," Remy whispered, giving in and smiling weakly. "Merci for goin' back to Antarctica."

 

"That really means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Scott wished he'd returned earlier so he'd have been the one to find Remy.

 

"Oui, you need to get goin'… Scott. Bobby's gettin' impatient." Remy looked down at his shoes, wondering why he was this emotional.

 

"We'll talk again, brother. I promise." With a heavy heart Scott entered the Black Bird and got ready to help Bobby for take off. Seeing Remy's lone figure in front of the house tore at Scott's heart. It was a pity Remy didn't want to return to Westchester. Scott would have loved to spend more time with his brother.

 

"Rem?" Warren wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and kissed Remy's collarbone. "Scott will be just fine."

 

"I know dat," Remy sighed in reply. The Black Bird's engines roared and the plane gained more height. Within seconds it was gone from view.

 

"You're feeling a little depressed here," Warren remarked knowingly. "What about taking our new car and driving to Dublin to spend the day? Maybe we'll even run into Jean-Luc and Logan."

 

"I'd like dat," Remy replied honestly. "Mais I want to take a shower first."

 

"Okay, in the meantime I'll try and get some directions on driving to Dublin. Don't want to end up lost." Warren pulled his love into the house with him. Wolvie gave them hungry looks.

 

"You forgot to feed him?" Remy correctly interpreted that look.

 

"Yeah, I'll do that while you shower." Warren nudged Remy towards the staircase.

 

"Ange? Join me for dat shower?"

 

"You want me too?" Warren gave Remy a probing look, uncertain what he hoped to find in those puzzling eyes. Remy knew better than to tempt him with sex for the wrong reasons.

 

"I know what I'm doin' and why I'm doin' it." Remy peeked from underneath his lashes at his lover's face. "I want to make you come."

 

"It's tempting," Warren confessed and took Remy's hand in his. "Why do you want to do that?"

 

"To give you pleasure, cher. I want to feel you." Remy waited long moments, but Warren remained silent. "Because I love you, cher," he added eventually, wondering what Warren wanted to hear.

 

"Okay…" Warren said slowly. "I'll join you, but I need to feed Wolvie first."

 

Feeling victorious, Remy grinned smugly. "You won' regret it, cher."

 

Warren chuckled softly. "We'll see about that."

 

///

 

Thoughtfully, Warren stepped out of his jeans and removed his shirt. He hoped that Remy was ready to take this step and was doing this for the right reasons. Spreading his wings Warren stretched his body. Had he really proposed to Remy last night? Grinning madly, he studied himself in the mirror and the grin faded. He hated this blue skin.

 

"Cher?"

 

Remy's voice urged Warren to leave his musings behind and he stepped into the steamy bathroom. "Rem?" He located his lover and stepped underneath the warm water beams. "You removed the bandage," he noticed concerned.

 

"Oui, have a look at it, cher?"

 

Warren did and a small, "Uh," left his lips. "It's gone. Not even a scar. That's why you were suddenly healing up so fast." With a sense of pride Warren took in Remy's smooth body. "And it's all mine," he quipped in delight. Small droplets of water seemed to possessively cling to his lover's skin, unwilling to slide down the buttocks.

 

Warren reached for the shampoo to wash his hair when Remy stopped him.

 

"Let me," Remy offered and he squeezed some shampoo into the palm of his hand. Slowly, he massaged Warren's scalp. "Bien?"

 

"Perfect." Loving the feel of those expect fingertips moving over his skin, Warren released a sigh of deep contentment.

 

"Rinse," Remy announced and pulled him closer. "Now it's time for step two," and he grabbed the soap, lathering Warren's skin. "Do you like my washin' your hair, cher?"

 

"That's the dumbest question I ever heard!" Warren growled as agile fingers moved over his back, rubbed his ass and then stole over to his belly. "Geeze, Rem!" He arched his back as his lover's fingers teasingly moved over his semi erect cock. Warren took hold of Remy's hands and cradled them in front of his chest. Looking Remy in the eyes, he asked, "What do you want me to do?"

 

Remy trembled, hearing that question. "Would you turn 'round?" Remy wanted to pleasure this man, make Warren come and hear him scream his name.

 

"I can do that." Warren wondered if Remy had heard the nervousness in his voice.

 

"Je t'aime, cher. I want to make you feel good."

 

It was a two-way thing, Warren realized. Remy had trusted him enough to let him go down on him and now he had to show Remy the same trust. "Just don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable," Warren said pleadingly.

 

"Turn 'round." Remy let his hands wander down his lover's chest and as Warren obeyed, they ended up on his lover's buttocks instead. "Cher, you take my breat' 'way," Remy complimented his lover. "Let me take care of you." He rested his body against Warren's and placed his lover's hands against the wall. "You might need de support," he added wickedly.

 

"Geeze, Rem, I'm already hard. Have mercy!" Warren leaned forward and spread his legs. "What are you going to do?"

 

"Spread your wings?"

 

"Sure." Warren took a deep breath and obliged his lover, who nestled his body in between Warren's wings. One of Remy's hands moved closer to his groin. "Rem," Warren pleaded breathlessly. Just feeling Remy's hard body behind him, pressed into his almost made him come!

 

"Easy, cher," Remy admonished Warren. "I didn' even start yet!" He curled his fingers around the throbbing erection and rubbed the tip with his thumb. Warren rocked hard against him and Remy pressed his body even closer to his lover's.

 

Warren's head jerked back, feeling his lover's cock pressed against his buttocks. "Just like in my fantasy," he growled through clenched teeth.

 

Remy smiled and slowly stroked his lover's slippery cock. "Better dan your fantasy?"

 

"Much better! Make me come?" Warren panted softly as Remy's cock teased against his cleft. "Wow," Warren exclaimed passionately.

 

Remy concentrated on the needy body in front of him. He may pretend to know what he was doing but he was new at this game too. In past relationship and one night stands he'd always ended up being the passive and submissive one, but with Warren things were different. Remy loved being able to give his lover this amount of pleasure. Looking down, Remy stared in wonder at Warren who rocked back against him, almost trying to grip Remy's cock between his buttocks. It was an amazing sight. And I'm doin' dis to ange, makin' him lose his mind! "Cher…" Remy whispered affectionately and dropped to his knees.

 

"Rem!" Warren screamed his need as a hand parted his buttocks, stealing closer and finally touching his entrance. "What are you doing? You're driving me insane!" Remy's right hand still pumped him slowly, keeping him on the edge of release.

 

"I hear you, ange," Remy whispered and licked his lips. Carefully, Remy used one slick finger to massage his lover's entrance, cautious not to let it slip inside. But suddenly Warren rocked hard and Remy's index finger disappeared into Warren's tight passage. "Cher, calm down!" Shocked and startled, Remy pulled back. Warren didn't know how much this would hurt and Remy returned to fondling his lover's balls instead.

 

"Don't stop, Rem. That felt great… " Warren was balancing on the edge. "Please, love!" He bent forward, exposing himself completely. Unsure what to expect, Warren leaned heavily against the wall. All he knew was that his cock was screaming for release.

 

Remy swallowed hard, reaching a decision. "Bien, cher. Will make you come." Remy parts those delicious buttocks again and licked Warren's cleft, slowly making his way to the centre of his lover's arousal.

 

Warren quavered violently as Remy's tongue slipped inside his body, dancing, massaging his flesh and the tight muscles. "Rem!" he panted the name over and over again, like a prayer. "Rem, please!'

 

Feeling more confident because of Warren's enthusiastic response, Remy's tongue pushed in deeper, tasting his lover. His tongue thrust and pulled back again, making Warren squirm with pleasure.

 

"Rem, I…" Words failed Warren as his muscles contracted, almost expelling his lover's tongue and he shot his come into Remy's hand. Rocking hard, he yelped at the loss of Remy's tongue inside him and he regretted coming this quickly. Exhausted, Warren fell to his knees, but sighed as Remy pulled him to his chest. "That was fucking incredible," Warren moaned, still relishing tiny waves of pleasure, which continued to run through his body.

 

"Wasn' sure you'd like it," Remy said shyly, avoiding Warren's eyes.

 

Warren turned around in the embrace so he could face his lover. Warm water still cascaded down their bodies, washing away the milky cream. "What the hell did you do? I thought I was going to die!" Warren looked down and smiled, realizing Remy had come as well.

 

"No hands dis time," Remy whispered teasingly, noting his lover's glance.

 

"What was that thing you did with your tongue?" Warren didn't try to hide the admiration or curiosity in his tone. "I want to be able to do that for you too!"

 

Remy blushed. "Loved to eat you, cher."

 

"Wicked Cajun!" Warren pulled Remy close and kissed him passionately. His tongue slipped inside Remy's mouth and Warren tasted himself. Suddenly, his feelings of euphoria died. "Rem, are you okay? You didn't have to do that."

 

"I'm bien, ange." Remy's tone was soft and gentle. "I never did that for anyone… no one… You're de first. De Antiquary wanted me to do dat to him, mais I always refused."

 

"Love," Warren held Remy close, tasting the hidden pain in those words. "Thanks for this beautiful gift."

 

Remy grinned, feeling strangely shy. "I did 'kay den?"

 

"Oh, Rem," Warren sighed in understanding. "I loved it."

 

"You want to go to Dublin now?" Remy felt the need to distance himself from the memories before he burst out in tears for all the unnecessary pain he'd suffered as a child.

 

"Sure, love." Warren recognized the effort to distract him, but allowed it. "But I need to get something special for you, so I'll leave you alone for a few moments and don't you dare follow me!"

 

"Gettin' somet'in' special for me?" Remy repeated, surprised.

 

"A gift… from me to you," Warren clarified, "And I want it to be a surprise."

 

Remy pulled them to their feet and held his love just a little longer, relishing his closeness.

 

///

 

"I hate dat image inducer," Remy proclaimed as they ventured into the streets of the city. He'd never been in Dublin and curiously Remy took in his surroundings, hiding his eyes behind sunglasses.

 

"Why?" Warren ignored possible looks they might attract and gently took hold of his lover's hand, intertwining their fingers.

 

"I love your wings, dat exotic blue skin…"

 

"I hate my blue skin," Warren admitted in an unguarded moment. Hearing Remy's surprised yelp he shrugged his shoulders. "Makes me even more of a freak."

 

Remy was shocked. "I never knew…"

 

"Don't worry about it, Remy. I might not like it, but I can live with it. Okay, first we're going to get the groceries."

 

///

 

"I don' like dat blend of tea!"

 

Warren sighed. "Next time, I'll get our groceries alone!"

 

"Don' buy dose cornflakes! I like dese!" and Remy unceremoniously exchanged the boxes.

 

"Why don't you get the fruit and vegetables and I finish up here?" Warren sighed exasperated. He almost despaired seeing Remy's wicked expression.

 

"Oui, I'll get de bananas and cucumbers…"

 

"Why those?" Warren was afraid to ask.

 

Remy leaned in closer and whispered into Warren's ear. "You might find out later," and hurried away.

 

Warren quavered. "Crazy Cajun!" He got the rest of the groceries and when he met up with Remy again he saw that his lover had collected a large number of exotic fruits, as well as cucumbers, greens and lettuce. "Tease!"

 

"And you love it!"

 

///

 

After they made their way back to the car, Warren tried to get his bearings again. He had to find a jewellery shop. "I'll be back in 30 minutes. Don't get yourself into trouble. I'll meet you in that pub," and he pointed it out to Remy. "Be a good little Cajun!"

 

Remy laughed warmly, shook his head and went his own way. He'd do some shopping of his own!

 

///

 

30 Minutes later Warren walked into the pub, pleased with his purchase, which was safely tucked away in his pocket. The pub was barely illuminated, but he quickly located his lover in the corner. But Remy wasn't alone. Jean-Luc and Logan sat at the same table."Hello again," Warren greeted them and sat down. The waiter walked up to him and Warren ordered some black coffee. "What a coincidence!" He studied Logan's tired eyes. "Looks like you didn't get much sleep last night." Warren bit his lip in order not to add something wicked.

 

Remy gave his father a sly look and then his eyes returned to study Logan's wrists. "Cher, I think poppa hand cuffed Wolvie to de bed."

 

Logan spat out his beer and Warren almost choked on his sip of coffee. "Remy!" The two men exclaimed simultaneously.

 

But Jean-Luc just smiled contentedly. He loved the change in his son and realized he'd made the right decision in trusting Warren weeks ago. Remy was growing stronger. His son's changed eyes had surprised him at first, but then he'd realized it was probably because the angelic part of Remy's soul was gaining in strength as well. "Remy? Logan and I'll leave for Paris tomorrow." His son was letting go, no longer clinging to him for safety and love. Looked like Remy had found that with Warren, for which Jean-Luc was incredibly grateful.

 

"We're staying a little longer," Warren replied, seeing the entranced look in his lover's eyes and he couldn't help but think back to what had happened in the shower. "We kinda like it here."

 

"Oui," Remy confirmed. "I like bein' here wid ange."

 

Warren gave Remy a warm look. "We'll stay until we're ready to leave."

 

Logan grumbled low in his throat, "Lovesick teenagers."

 

///

 

Back at the house Remy and Warren carried the groceries into the kitchen. Wolvie was glad to see they were back and walked towards them. He'd enjoyed being back in the forest, but he was even gladder to see Remy again. It was obvious the wolf wanted to stick around.

 

"Hungry?" Remy put more dog food in the bowl and refreshed the wolf's water supply. "What do you think, ange? Are we stuck wid him?"

 

"I guess so." Warren put the image inducer on the coffee table, sat down and stretched his legs. "Rem? Come here."

 

Remy joined him eagerly and moved into his lover's arms. "What did you buy me?"

 

"Curious huh? You'll have to wait until Valentine's day!"

 

"But dat's like…. Two weeks!" Remy's eyes pleaded. "Can' I have it now?"

 

"No," Warren stated resolved. "And those puppy dog's eyes won't help!"

 

"It's bien, cher. I can wait," Remy decided on a different approach.

 

"Don't think about peeking at it! If I catch you doing that I'm going to return it to the shop!" Warren breathed the words into his lover's ear and felt Remy's goose flesh underneath his fingertips. "Come on. We'll watch some TV and have a snack."

 

Remy made himself comfortable in Warren's arms and sighed blissfully.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

"Scott!"

 

Scott turned around to face his wife and his mentor. Both telepaths had come to the hangar to talk to him and Scott knew he could postpone this conversation, but not avoid it. From the corner of his eye he caught Bobby slipping outside, doubtlessly on his way to meet Nicholas.

 

"Scott?" Jean was worried. Scott looked exhausted, but at the same time his minds felt full of energy. "Where have you been? Why did you leave like that?"

 

Scott considered his options. "Bobby and I had a talk with Warren and… Remy." The two telepaths looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "No, I'm rational, sir," he said, addressing the professor. "Remy's alive. He survived."

 

"You found your brother," Jean realized, making the connection at once. "That's why you left like that."

 

"I couldn't run the risk of you finding out before I had a chance to talk to him."

 

"Is he coming back?" Jean didn't know what she felt. Relief, yes, but also… anger.

 

"Why are you angry?" Scott asked concerned, surprised to read that particular reaction in her mind.

 

"He had to make it on his own, Scott. We should have been there to help him." Jean rubbed her eyes. Since Scott had taken off she hadn't been able to sleep. Worried, she pressed herself against his chest. Immediately, his arms folded around her protectively.

 

"He's okay now. We need to concentrate on that and no, he isn't coming back for a long time. He told me he's through with the team."

 

Charles knew he'd failed Gambit. None of this was Scott's fault, or Rogue's. It was his. He hadn't paid attention to what had been going on with his students. Being honest with himself he had to admit he'd always neglected Remy's needs, but the Cajun had always appeared so strong and focussed!

 

"Can we tell the others?" Jean whispered softly.

 

"Yes, but I can't tell you where he is. I owe him that. I gave him my word." Scott saw acceptance in their eyes. "But Warren told me that they will be back to talk to Rogue once Remy's up to that."

 

"Uh, Scott?" Jean shuffled her feet. "Betsy is here as well. How do you think they will react to hearing that Warren and Remy are lovers?" She saw Remy and Warren in Scott's mind, one of the images he offered to share with her and she drew her conclusions.

 

"I don't care," Scott said calmly. "Warren and Remy are happy. Isn't that what matters?"

 

Charles nodded his head. "Come, we should tell the others."

 

///

 

Hank grinned hearing the good news and felt terribly relieved. He still blamed himself for not returning to Antarctica. He'd witnessed the trial and hadn't tried to help afterwards. His eyes came to rest on Joseph who sat opposite Rogue, obviously trying to keep his distance. Joseph smiled, relieved as well. Rogue however was biting her lip.

 

Anger? Hank wondered about Rogue. Shouldn't she be happy to hear Remy survived? The woman was a mystery, one he couldn't seem to solve. His glance traveled to Betsy, whose face was bereft of all emotion. Hank briefly shivered. Yes, Warren was better of with Remy as a lover. Betsy sometimes gave Hank the creeps, though he wasn't sure why.

 

And then there was Scott. Hank enjoyed seeing the bright smile on his friend's face, remembering only too well how depressed Scott had been before finding out that his brother was still alive. It will take me some time to get used to thinking of them as brothers.

 

Rogue and Betsy's silence surprised him at first, but Hank realized they couldn't really object to this development. It was beyond their control. Good.

 

"It goes against nature."

 

Storm's remark at hearing that Warren and Remy were lovers hadn't surprised Hank. She'd reacted the same way when Bobby had finally found the courage to tell them about his sexual preference. Her rejection hurt Bobby and Hank had tried to reason with Storm, showing her scientific evidence that explained homosexuality, but she refused to listen. He sighed, wondering if she'd ever outgrow her prejudice.

 

Hank got to his feet, walked over to Scott and rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Should you contact Remy, let him know I'm happy for them." After making that statement, he returned to his lab, hoping Bobby had found his true love in Nicholas. He wanted his best friend to be happy. Closing the door behind him he concentrated on his research again.

 

///

 

Bobby pressed the doorbell, feeling more than just nervous for having cancelled their date. "I have a guilty conscience," he whispered and held his breath as the door opened. "Nick, I'm so sorry," he whispered softly and then presented one red rose to his lover.

 

Nicholas licked his lips. "Baby, come inside." He accepted the rose and pulled his lover inside. "I was just eating pizza. Are you hungry? I can feed you," he offered wickedly.

 

Relieved that he'd been forgiven, Bobby sank down onto the couch. He loved the interior of Nicholas apartment, which was decorated with paintings and ancient sculptures, showing a guest that a history lover resided here. He observed Nicholas as his lover gathered the pizza, two glasses and a bottle of red wine. "It's your eyes, you know," Bobby whispered gently. "They're so green, so cat like."

 

"I thought you said it was my hair," Nicholas quipped in return, playing along as he poured the wine and offered Bobby a glass.

 

"Yeah, I love your hair too. It's incredibly black and I love to run my fingers through those long silky locks." Bobby slid down onto the floor, rested his back against the sofa and allowed Nicholas to feed him a bite of pizza. "You're not mad with me because I took off like that?"

 

"No, I'm not mad with you. How can I? But you can make it up to me tonight." Nicholas took a sip of his wine and savoured Bobby's hungry expression. He'd never understand why people were so scared of mutants. Bobby was one of the kindest persons he'd ever met. "Just don't freeze my little toe again!" He remembered Bobby's little payback a few nights ago when Nick had refused to get up for classes. He'd wanted to spend the day with his new lover, but Bobby had made it very clear that going to uni was important. "Too damn sensible," Nick muttered beneath his breath.

 

"Want me to freeze something else?" Bobby teased in return and stroked the bulge through his lover's jeans.

 

"Don't you dare do that, Robert Drake!" Nicholas giggled. "I had too much wine."

 

"Wanna move this to the bed?" Bobby inquired wickedly. They'd decided to wait with making love until they felt more secure in this relationship, but that didn't stop them from exploring their bodies and giving each other pleasure. "Or do you have to study?"

 

"I need to finish a paper on the French Revolution, but I can do that in the morning." Nicholas smiled, got up and pulled Bobby towards the bedroom. "Come on, sweetheart. I want to touch you."

 

Smiling, Bobby didn't resist and followed his lover into the bedroom.

 

///

 

Valentine's Day

 

"Get up, sleepyhead!" Warren poked his lover playfully. "It's time for our morning run!" Looking down at the dishevelled Cajun he grinned smugly. These last 2 weeks had been the best of his life. Remy was a passionate lover and although they hadn't gone all the way yet, the physical side to their relationship had turned out better than he'd ever hoped.

 

"Let me sleep!" Remy groaned playfully. He was fully awake, but determined not to give in easily. "Make it wort' my while!" From under the lashes of his right eye he peeked at Warren and sighed. His lover was fully clothed, wearing sweats and too awake for this time of day… correction, morning!

 

"It's 1000 AM, Remy! Time to get up and to start moving." Ten days ago they'd started to run 4 miles each morning and their stamina was almost back to its old level. "Wolvie is getting impatient. You know how much he loves to run in the morning!"

 

Remy groaned, pretending annoyance, but secretly he loved teasing Warren. "Have mercy, ange! It's Valentine's Day! You're supposed to pamper me all day long!"

 

Warren laughed warmly. "Come on, lazy Cajun!" He grabbed the comforter and threw it onto the floor. The sight of Remy's naked body made his heart beat a faster rhythm. He'd completely forgotten that they'd ended up doing a striptease last night and Remy had won after adding his special lap dance act. "I could eat you, Rem," he said teasingly and wondered about Remy's blush. At times his lover seemed oddly vulnerable.

 

"You no fun!" Remy pouted, but then stretched his body and slowly got to his feet. Suddenly his eyes lit up. "Ah, today I get my present!"

 

"Shit…" Warren teased in return. "I forgot where I hid it from your greedy eyes."

 

Remy ignored the remark and strolled into the bathroom. "Can' we skip runnin' today?"

 

Warren grinned and pointed at the doorway. Impatiently, Wolvie paced the corridor. "Does that answer your question?"

 

Remy sighed, splashed some water onto his face and slipped into some sweats as well. He might dislike the running routine, but he loved taking a shower with Warren afterwards to get cleaned up. "Can' disappoint Wolvie," he whispered amused and put on his cross trainers. "When do I get my present, ange?"

 

"Keep pushing me and I'll make you wait until tomorrow," Warren quipped. He turned around and left the room.

 

Reluctantly, Remy followed and threw a regretful glance at their warm bed, which Warren had shared with him only minutes ago. As he walked outside he licked his lips at the sight of Warren doing his stretching exercises. Sneaking up on his lover, he stood behind Warren and grabbed his lover's hips, pulling Warren's ass closer to his groin.

 

Warren's smile grew warmer and was coloured with passion and desire. "Later, Cajun! Work comes before pleasure!" Wriggling back, he grew aroused at the mere sensation of Remy's erection pressing against his buttocks. Melancholy, he thought back to all the wonderful intimate moments they'd shared and hoped that Remy would one day be ready to make love to him. But taking it slowly like this was the right thing to do. Warren knew that.

 

"Let's get dis over wid den. Last one home makes breakfast!" And before Warren had a chance to respond, Remy took off into the forest, Wolvie hot on his trial.

 

"You little…" Warren bit down the rest of the remark, too happy that Remy was back up to his old tricks. Trying to make up for lost time he started running as well.

 

///

 

"Hum… bien! You're a good cook, ange!" Remy leaned back, rubbing his well-stuffed belly. Warren had finished last and had prepared breakfast without complaining about unfair treatment… after they'd taken a very relaxing shower. Mentally, Remy giggled. Seeing Warren come was always an amazing sight. A sight, which he loved very much and got to see every morning… and sometimes during the evening as well!

 

Remy got up to help Warren to do the dishes and used the moment to study his lover. Today was the big day. At least, that was what Remy had decided. He wasn't sure though he could go through with his plan. Could he make love to Warren or would painful memories or even flashbacks keep him back? He wanted to love Warren the way his lover deserved to be loved.

 

Two days ago they'd gone back to Dublin and without telling Warren, he'd bought some stuff. Condoms… don' even know if we need dem. We should discuss dat… I got tested in de hospital after Antarctica and I'm clean… mais what 'bout him? And lube… lots of lube… Thinking about taking Warren made him nervous. What if he hurt his lover? It wasn't like he had a lot of expertise and he wanted Warren to remember his first time as beautiful.

 

"You're awfully quiet," Warren mused aloud, finishing his part of the boring chore. Standing behind his lover he folded his arms around Remy's waist. "What are you brooding about this time?"

 

"I was wonderin'," Remy started, "You want to open de present I got you?"

 

"You got me a present too?" Warren smiled. "I should have known. What did you get me, love?"

 

His teasing mood disappeared and Remy pulled his lover onto the couch. "Sit down. I'll get it."

 

Warren shook his head. "Let me get yours as well."

 

After staring at each other for a long moment they both ran off in different directions, trying to make it back first. Warren won this time and he sunk onto the couch, hiding his gift behind his back. Remy arrived a moment later and dropped onto the sofa next to him.

 

"Who goes first?"

 

"What if we give the presents simultaneously?" Warren suggested with a grin.

 

"Like dat idea!" Remy fumbled behind his back. "On de count of t'ree… one, two, t'ree!" With a victorious smile Remy presented the small box to his lover. Stunned, he realized that Warren was offering him a similar jewellery box.

 

Both burst out laughing and Warren was the first to calm down. "What if we bought the exact same thing?"

 

"Would prove we're telepat's as well!" Remy said jokingly and accepted Warren's gift. Expectedly, he looked at his lover. "Can I open it?"

 

"Rem, before you do that…" Warren took a deep breath. "You still owe me an answer."

 

Remy immediately understood what Warren was talking about and lowered his eyes. He'd been expecting this one. "Remy Wort'ington, non?"

 

"Yeah, you got an answer for me, love? I can wait if you need more time." Warren didn't want to pressure Remy, but he had been living with this uncertainty for 2 weeks now and he needed the answer.

 

"Mebbe you should open my present instead… it holds my answer," Remy whispered nervously. How could he possibly deny Warren? He loved the man so much it hurt.

 

Equally nervous, Warren took a deep breath and opened the gift box. "Oh, Rem… maybe you are a telepath!" he whispered touched. Inside the box was a Claddagh ring, made of white gold. Twelve brilliant cut diamonds surrounded the central heart shaped diamond. "Rem…" he sighed and then looked his lover in the eyes. "I take it this is yes?"

 

"Oui, I want to spend de rest of my life wid you, ange," Remy whispered softly. "I couldn' decide at de shop." Remy looked at the ring; uncertain whether he'd made the right choice. His eyes were full of doubt. "Liked dis one best. Mais if you want a different one you can…"

 

"I love it, Rem!" Warren exclaimed happily. "Now open yours." He didn't touch the ring yet, waiting for the right moment, waiting for Remy to open his gift.

 

Remy's hands trembled when he flipped back the lid. "Oh, cher…" Words failed him as he looked at the Claddagh ring in his hands. Trained thief's eyes immediately roamed the valuable ring, crafted in 18ct yellow gold and set with twelve brilliant cut diamonds, which surrounded a sparkling heart shaped diamond. "You know de meanin' of dis gift, cher?" Remy asked after finding his breathing again.

 

"Yeah," Warren replied with a sigh and took Remy's ring out of the box to offer it to his lover. "The ring epitomises the expression of lasting love and eternal friendship. The heart symbolises love, the hands friendship and the crown loyalty and fidelity. It's how I feel about you, love. Can I…?"

 

Shyly, Remy locked eyes with Warren. "Put it on my finger?"

 

"Yeah, how do you want to wear it?" Warren asked slyly.

 

"Cher," Remy sighed nervously. "Only one way for me to wear it, non?"

 

"Want me to put it on your left hand with the heart turned inwards?" Warren cocked his head, still wondering how they'd ended up with similar gifts.

 

"Dat means our love is forever, non?" Remy whispered, hoping he remembered right. Jean-Luc had told him about the Claddagh rings when he'd been training to become a thief, telling him how valuable these rings were. "Can' believe we picked de same t'ing."

 

Smiling, Warren put the ring on his lover's finger. "You're mine forever now, Rem."

 

Remy swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Je t'aime, cher." In turn, Remy took hold of the ring he'd bought his lover and put it on Warren's finger. "Feels like I'm marryin' you," he whispered, suddenly glad he'd told Warren about Belladonna and his ill fated marriage late one night when he'd tried to explain his hesitance to accept Warren's proposal. That night, Warren's eyes had radiated understanding.

 

"But we are going to stay together until death do us part."

 

"Don' say dat, cher," Remy whispered and shivered. "Want to be wid you forever." Feeling a little shy, he stared at the ring at his finger. It actually felt like it belonged there. Odd.

 

"I'm glad you like my gift, love." Amused, Warren followed Remy's mesmerized stare. "What do you want to do the rest of the day?"

 

"I…" Remy wavered and hesitantly locked eyes with his lover. "Want to make love wid you, cher."

 

Warren's heart missed a beat. "Are you sure about that, Rem? We can wait." Their love life was already filled with passion and bliss. Remy had given him more love than any other of his lovers.

 

"I'm sure," Remy stated determinedly. "Mais I would like to talk 'bout it first."

 

Pleased, Warren leaned back, pulling his lover into an embrace. "That would make me feel way more comfortable too."

 

Playing with a strand of golden hair, Remy nodded his head. "You still want me to take you?"

 

"Rem, you need to ask?" He grinned. Their intimate moments had focused on one particular theme lately, Remy making him moan, squirm and beg by putting his tongue and fingers to work. "I'd love to feel you inside me, Rem." The sheer memory of the things Remy had done to him with those talented tongue and fingers instantly made him hard. "You've been so gentle with me, so careful. I love it when you take control like that. I don't know how it will feel to have you inside me. You're a lot bigger than those three fingers you use to make me beg, but I'm sure we can make this work."

 

Remy licked his lips. "I'll be careful. Don' want to hurt you, cher."

 

"I know that, Rem." Warren kissed his lover's lips and then cocked his head. "I take it you got tested while you were in the hospital in Houston?"

 

"Oui, dey checked on it. I'm clean, cher…" Remy wondered how to phrase this. "Want to use condoms?"

 

Warren realized the reason behind the question. "I always used a condom when I had sex with Bets. Always practiced safe sex. I slept around a lot in my wild days… I learned to be careful. After Betsy and I split up I got tested. Clean as a whistle."

 

"We're not goin' to use condoms den?"

 

"What would you prefer?" Warren returned the question. Now that he'd committed to this man for life he would love to break down all barriers.

 

Remy considered the question. "We can do wit'out dem."

 

"Let me guess, You already bought them? Guess they will never leave the package!"

 

"And lube," Remy confessed.

 

"You've been planning this, sneaky Cajun!" Warren teased warmly and suckled the skin near Remy's collarbone, leaving behind a passion mark.

 

"I wanted to be ready," Remy chuckled. Talking about this was taking away his nervousness. "Did you pick a position from de gay kama sutra?"

 

"I've been thinking about that," Warren admitted. "I would love to see your face when we make love."

 

Remy nodded his head. "Feel de same way, cher… mais your wings might get in de way."

 

"I'm flexible," Warren assured Remy. "And I also would like to have some control."

 

"Bien…" Remy rested his head against his lover's chest. "T'ink I know a way for you to have control, see my face and me still bein' on top."

 

"Want to share?" Warren asked in a wicked tone. "I'm curious here."

 

"You trust me to…" Remy's voice trailed off.

 

"I trust you to be gentle and to take good care of me… judging from our current love life I get the creepy suspicion we're going to blow our heads of… figuratively speaking…" Warren laughed.

 

"Tonight? I want to make love to you tonight," Remy whispered in a heavy tone as Warren's tongue sneaked up his throat. "Cher…"

 

Greedily, Warren nibbled on Remy's ear lobe. "Tonight," he agreed and gazed affectionately at the ring Remy was wearing… his ring!

 

///

 

"Dinner was great, Rem! Never knew Cajun food tastes this great."

 

"Merde," Remy teased, "Means I get to do all de cookin' 'round here, non?"

 

"Yeah." Warren loved the soft music floating through the living room. Wolvie'd left the house to roam the woods, trying to get rid of his pent up energy from being stuck inside most of the day. They had the house to themselves and knowing what was going to happen tonight made Warren a little nervous. Looking at Remy's spectacular eyes, Warren drew Remy deeper into his arms. Remy trembled slightly, telling Warren he wasn't the only one nervous here. Warren wasn't sure whether he should bring the subject of making love up again. He didn't want to kill the delightful expectation floating through their bodies, but he'd blow this off if Remy felt too uncomfortable.

 

Maybe, maybe Warren should just let things happen instead. "Rem? Love you." Remy shot him a brilliant smile and Warren relaxed slightly. Leaning in closer, Warren instigated their first kiss, turning Remy around until his lover faced him, straddling his hips. "I love kissing you," Warren whispered affectionately. Yes, this would work, but they needed to take things slow.

 

Parting his teeth, Remy allowed Warren entry and engaged his lover's tongue in a lazy duel. He placed his hands on Warren's chest, feeling the hardening nipples pressed against the shirt. "Tell me you want me?" he asked awkwardly.

 

"I want you, Rem." His words were firm and determined. "Do you want me?"

 

"Cher… forever… want you forever…" Remy looked into his lover's blue eyes and knew what he had to do, knew he had to set aside his fears. Fear of failure, fear of memories, fear of disappointing. I'll do dat for you, cher. Love you more dan life itself. Remy dropped his final barriers and turned the tables, chasing Warren's tongue in turn.

 

Warren leaned back into the comfort of the sofa, arching his hips in want.

 

Need to stop thinkin' 'bout dis… Remy reminded himself. This was about feelings.

 

Warren recognized the fears in his lover's eyes because he'd faced them himself until seconds ago. But he concentrated on lover's body pressed against his, licking Remy's lips and even suckling that delicious tongue. "Want you, Rem. Really, really want you to make love to me."

 

The whispered words eased Remy's worries. "Want to make love to you, cher." Pressing his body against his lover, he relished the sensation of Warren's arousal against his right hand. "Cher?"

 

Warren opened his eyes at hearing that tone. Remy's smile was warm and genuine.

 

"I'm a healer, non? So I can even heal a scratch my fingernails might leave behind?"

 

"I think so, Rem." It was amazing to see the change in his lover's eyes. This healing power was Remy's blessing and it'd strengthen the Cajun. "You can't hurt me, love."

 

"Oui," Remy whispered enthusiastically. Why should he be nervous? Dere's no need to be nervous! "Cher," Remy moaned his pleasure, once more possessing his lover's lips. "Move dis to de bed? Don' want to end up makin' love to you on de couch." Their first time should be special.

 

Warren wrapped his arms around his lover and rose to his feet, tightly holding onto Remy. "Want to tell me what position you got in mind?"

 

Remy shook his head. "Non, not yet, cher!" Teasingly, he pinched his lover's buttocks. "Want you in bed, cher."

 

"Oh, Rem," Warren whispered lost. "You're killing me here!"

 

"I can see dat!" His right hand brushed the fabric of Warren's jeans and gave the hiding erection a gentle squeeze. Remy pulled Warren upstairs and pushed Warren into the bedroom. "Get into bed, cher."

 

Warren licked his lips. "Only if you join me." He crawled onto the bed on all fours. Suddenly, a hand lunged for him, pulling him onto his back. "Rem!" he exclaimed and tugged at the Cajun's shirt. "Get this off," he whispered in an unexpectedly soft tone. "God, you have no idea how badly I want to make love to you."

 

Remy sighed. "I feel de same way, cher." Agile fingers stripped off Warren's shirt and then moved to unbutton the jeans.

 

"Do you have the lube ready?" Warren quipped, resting his head against the headboard. Remy's hands moved over his body, removing his underwear and socks. Naked, Warren laid waiting for his love to make the next move.

 

Remy slid off the bed and slowly removed his shirt.

 

"Another striptease?" Warren remarked teasingly, running his right hand over his chest to touch his hard cock. "Lose the clothes and get over here, Rem!"

 

Quickly, Remy stepped out of his jeans and underwear and watched his lover from where he stood. "You're beautiful, ange." His heart raged, his blood sizzled and pooled in his groin. "Lube?" Remy suddenly remembered Warren's question. He hurried over to the bathroom to retrieve it. The sight that awaited him when he got back, stopped him in his tracks.

 

Warren grinned smugly, stroking himself in a lazy rhythm, squeezing his sac. "You like seeing me like this, huh?"

 

"You got no shame, cher!" Remy crawled onto the bed and placed the lube next to the pillow. Straddling his lover's hips, Remy realized this position had to be uncomfortable for Warren. "Your wings, cher. Dey look crushed." Stretched out on the bed, they looked lifeless.

 

"I'm fine," Warren assured Remy, running his hands over his lover's chest, pinching a nipple and teasingly brushing the tip of Remy's cock. Gazing affectionately at his lover he mutely tried to tell Remy that he was ready for the next step.

 

Remy swallowed hard, touched by the trust in those blue eyes. "You're mine, cher," he whispered, leaned in closer and pressed his lips onto Warren's throat. Trailing down, he licked a nipple, suckled the other neglected one and then made his way down to the belly button. Flicking his tongue, Remy dipped inside.

 

Warren giggled. "Stop that, crazy Cajun! You know damn well I'm ticklish!"

 

"Oui, I know." Remy's hand slipped back to roll a nipple between his fingers. His other hand cupped Warren's hard erection and Remy softly blew at the tip, which already leaked precum.

 

Lazily, Warren caught his lover's gaze. "Love you, Rem."

 

Remy looked up, but then focused on the sensitive flesh in his hand. Slowly, he stroked his lover's cock, gently massaging the sac. His tongue returned to lavish his lover's skin with caresses before it dipped into the cleft, licking and pleasuring.

 

"Rem." The sigh escaped Warren unintended and he barely resisted closing his eyes in bliss. Warren wanted to see Remy move over his body. Gripping the sheets hard, Warren arched his back to give Remy better access.

 

"Cher?" Remy slipped a pillow underneath his lover's buttocks. "Want me to take you?"

 

"Dumb question, Cajun." Warren bit his lip as one lubricated finger touched his entrance. Damn! It was slick and easily slid inside. Pushing down, he tried to take in more. They'd done this before and it still surprised Warren how much he wanted this. "Two?" he begged.

 

"You want two fingers?" Remy asked teasingly, grabbed the lube again and squeezed more onto his fingers. "You're a vision, cher. Seein' you like dis… want to be 'side you."

 

"Soon, love," Warren whispered, recognizing the want and passion in those golden eyes. "Soon, we'll be one…" And damn! He wanted Remy inside, wanted to take this last step.

 

Remy suckled a nipple and then slowly inserted two fingers, surprised at how easily Warren took them. Suddenly, he realized that his fingertips tingled. It had become a familiar feeling during these last two weeks. "Cher?"

 

"Whatever you're doing, Rem… don't stop!" he pleaded, throwing back his head and moaning his need. "You feel warm…" There was this incredible warmth inside his body, relaxing every muscle.

 

Now that his lover felt relaxed, Remy added a third finger and almost lost control himself. Remy nearly came hearing the yelp of ecstasy that left Warren's lips.

 

"I'm ready, Rem… please take me," Warren panted, excitement and pleasure coursing through his body.

 

"Oui," Remy acknowledged, relieved that his actions only brought pleasure. Determinedly, Remy pushed the last tormenting images of the Antiquary hurting him from his mind. He expeled them, throwing them from his mind and filled the empty places with the love he saw in Warren's eyes.

 

Surprised, Warren gave in when Remy pulled him into an upright position. His Cajun lover rested his back against the headrest and Warren licked his lips, amazed at the evident need in Remy's eyes. His eyes strolled down to lock on his lover's impressive erection. Warren crawled closer to Remy on all fours.

 

"Cher?" Remy handed him the lube. "Use plenty."

 

Slowly, Warren coated his lover's cock with the lube. "Just don't come yet!" he warned Remy. Looking into his lover's eyes, Warren's hands froze briefly. He'd never seen Remy this relaxed, this comfortable, this… trusting before.

 

Remy quavered at the touch. "You set de pace, cher," he whispered, pulling Warren onto his lap, positioning his lover above his erection. "You want me? You have me."

 

Unexpectedly, urged on by the draped expressing in his lover's eyes, Warren leaned in and possessively claimed Remy's lips. Suckling the tip of Remy's tongue, Warren placed his hands on his lover's shoulders. He startled briefly, feeling the head of his lover's cock against his entrance, but it felt good. Pushing down, Warren stared into Remy's eyes. He paused to let his body adjust to the invasive feeling and then pushed down again. "Geeze, Rem…" Warren whispered breathlessly. Loving every minute of it, he took in the rest of his lover's erection until his buttocks met warm flesh.

 

"You're amazin'," Remy repeated, taking in his lover's feverish expression. Reaching down, Remy curled his fingers around his lover's throbbing cock. "Want to see your wings," he asked softly.

 

Obliging his lover Warren spread his wings, throwing back his head. His body was now used to the large presence inside him and he exploratory started to move. The unexpected friction made Warren groans. It was such an exquisite sensation!

 

"You look hot ridin' me like dat, ange," Remy whispered hoarsely. "We're makin' love, cher." He moaned low and wanting as Warren changed their rhythm, moving faster. One hand caressed the soft feathers. "Je t'aime, cher." Thrusting carefully, he tried to hit his lover's prostate which each thrust.

 

"Rem, I'm not going to last much longer," Warren whispered, tone filled with bliss and lust, as Remy's cock rubbed his prostate over and over again, driving him over the edge. Reaching down, Warren claimed his lover's right hand and twined their fingers. "Kiss me?"

 

Remy reacted at once and pulled his lover closer. Kissing him passionately, Remy sensed Warren tense up and fisted his lover's cock harder.

 

"Rem…" Warren breathed the name and came hard in his lover's hand. His orgasm hit Warren with unexpected force, realizing Remy was still inside him. "Rem," Leaning in closer, Warren roughly pressed his lips on Remy's, parted his lover's teeth and entered the delicious warmth.

 

Unable to whisper, Remy relayed his message with his eyes, telling Warren about the depth of his love. Warren's muscle clenched him, sending delightful shivers into his cock and Remy couldn't hold back any longer. Clutching his lover's head in his hands, Remy deepened the kiss, taking their breath away.

 

Warren's eyes grew big, as he accepted his lover's come inside his body. "Wow," he whispered as Remy released his lips. Warren panted hard, trying to regulate his heartbeat. "Wow," he repeated, staring into his lover's sated eyes.

 

Remy nodded his head, feeling a little shaky. "Wow," he agreed and folded his arms around his lover, savouring the waves of ecstasy running through his body. He felt alive. Alive, wanted and loved.

 

For long moments Warren held onto his lover and yielded quickly when Remy laid him down onto his back. He cringed at the loss, as Remy pulled back, feeling empty. "Rem," he whispered, breathlessly.

 

Hearing the affection in that one word, Remy soothingly stroked his lover's belly and then massaged the tense muscles in Warren's legs. "Dat was de greatest gift someone ever gave me."

 

"Feeling is mutual," Warren panted, enjoying the sensation of Remy's fingers caressing his skin.

 

"Should clean you up, cher. You're a mess," Remy whispered shakily, still impressed by the intensity of their lovemaking. Nobody had ever loved him like that!

 

"Wait, Rem!" Warren reached for him. "I don't mind being a mess as long we're a mess together!" He didn't want his lover to leave the bed. "I want to cuddle."

 

The honest tone touched Remy's soul. Wrapping his arms around his lover, Remy pulled Warren close and stroked the feathers, which were covered by a thin layer of sweat. "Merci, cher… no one ever did dis for me."

 

"I should be thanking you, Rem! I never came like that before! My body's tingling!" Snuggling up, he giggled at the sticky come that clung to their bellies. "Maybe we can continue this later in the shower?" he hinted mischievously. His gaze came to rest on the ring Remy was wearing and Warren sighed deeply. "The rest of our life is going to be like this," Warren promised passionately.

 

Remy held onto Warren, cradling, cherishing this special love. His power told him that whatever damage he'd done while making love to Warren had already healed. "What 'bout spendin' de rest of de day in bed?"

 

"Even better idea!" Warren decided happily and rested his head on Remy's chest. Loving the up and down movement of his lover's chest, he claimed Remy's other hand as well, curling his fingers around them. "Forever, love."

 

"Forever, ange."

 

///

 

"What are you doing out here, Rem?" Warren walked up to his lover, pulling the blanket closer to his naked body. Waking up without Remy had startled Warren. The bed had been cold and empty.

 

"Just t'inkin', cher," Remy said reassuringly as he watched the moon and stars. He'd gone outside to clear his mind. "It's de first time I'm really happy."

 

Warren wrapped his arms around his lover's waist. "Are you coming back to bed now? You feel cold."

 

"In five minutes, cher." Remy smiled and rubbed his lover's cold hands. "Still can' believe I got dis lucky."

 

Warren nuzzled the back of Remy's neck and laughed warmly. "You smell of candy, Rem. Honey and sugar… You never smelled like this before." Sensing his lover's unspoken question Warren added, "And I love it."

 

"Go and warm de bed for me, cher?" Remy leaned back into the embrace, relishing Warren's closeness.

 

"Don't take too long, love." Reluctantly, Warren released him and headed back into the house, feeling whole and completely at ease.

 

Remy walked away from the house and placed his right hand against a tree trunk. "Merci, mon Dieu," he whispered sincerely.

 

"You're happy."

 

The tingling voice startled Remy and he spun around, ready to take on any unexpected assailant. But Remy froze at the sight of the old priest underneath the oak tree. "Père Etienne?" Remy stuttered, puzzled.

 

"You should know better by now," the angel chided Remy amused. "But you may call me père Etienne for now. I prefer to walk amongst men in this form."

 

Stunned, Remy remained speechless. His eyes scanned the old face. "You changed into an ange… in de church…"

 

"I am an angel," he replied and studied his former protégé. "You did well, Remy."

 

Remy quavered at the praise. "I tried hard."

 

"You found love. You found inner strength. I'm proud of you, my friend."

 

"I don' know what to call you," Remy admitted honestly.

 

"As I said before, père Etienne will do for now."

 

"Père," Remy started awkwardly, eyes locked on the being that had saved him that night in the church, who'd taken him in and had given him the strength to continue, even without his memory. "I need answers."

 

"I know that. I'm here to answer your questions."

 

Remy's eyes followed every move his old friend made. "Why me?" he asked at last. "I never expected to see you 'gain, not after what I saw at de church."

 

The angel smiled kindly. "Your eyes have changed," he said knowingly and sat down on a large rock. "Come, sit with me and we'll talk."

 

"Oui, de eyes," Remy mumbled and carefully sat down next to his unexpected visitor. It felt seriously weird to talk to an angel, a real angel.

 

"And you also posses the power to heal."

 

"Oui," Remy replied, puzzled by the expression on the angel's face. He still couldn't believe that an angel had taken him in and had cared for him. And now this angel was back? Why? "How do you know 'bout de healin' power?"

 

"Because this power is your birth right, Remiel," he replied with a warm smile. "All angels possess the power to heal." He watched Remy closely, hoping his protégé understood.

 

"All anges?" Remy's eyes grew big, but then a mocking laugh, sharp and biting, escaped his lips. "Le diable blanc," Remy whispered lost and wondered if this angel really knew whom he was talking to. Appearances were so damn deceiving. Remy constantly needed to remind himself that this wasn't a human he was talking to.

 

"Stop the self-pity. It doesn't become you, Remiel. You always were the strong one."

 

Remy's breathing quickened. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

 

"You really don't remember, do you?" A quick glance confirmed his suspicion. "I'm surprised. But then again, maybe the Antiquary locked your memories away."

 

Trembling, Remy got to his feet and paced furiously. "I don' understand, mon ange," he whispered lost. "What are you tryin' to tell me?" His pleading tone revealed his uncertainty.

 

"Let me show you," he said and touched Remy's brow. A spark of golden energy left his fingers and seeped through the skin, into the tissue and bones. "Remember."

 

Remy staggered. Mon Dieu! That golden energy felt familiar. It was the same tingling sensation he'd felt in his fingertips every time he'd used his healing power. Delicious warmth slid through his mind and he fell to his knees, hugging his waist.

 

"Remember."

 

The voice called to him from across the golden veil that lifted before his eyes and memories, images Remy had never believed possible flashed through his mind. He'd once had wings, possessed powers that no mortal man could understand. But his mind wasn't equipped to deal with the memory overload. "Help me," Remy whispered, as a million voices sang in his mind, singing words of praise.

 

"Don't fight it," the angel adviced. "We can't hurt you." Throwing back his head he tuned into the voices and the strengthened connection set of his transformation.

 

Finally, Remy found the strength to look up and he swallowed hard, finding the angel he'd seen in the church kneeling next to him. Père Etienne, the illusion, was gone. A reassuring hand came to rest on his arm. The large wings, in color so unlike his lover's, sheltered Remy from the moonlight.

 

"Do you remember?"

 

"Oui," Remy whispered barely audible. "I chose to come to Eart'." Remy fought that insight, but could no longer deny it. "We were broders once."

 

"We still are, Remiel and when you die, part of your soul will return to heaven."

 

Remy's eyes filled with tears and he didn't fight them as they flowed down his cheeks.

 

"Live your life, Remiel. You've been given a rare gift. You found true love in this form, in this lifetime. Cherish your heritage. Be proud of who and what you are." He smiled kindly, squeezing Remy's shoulder. "You were never alone, but you never knew how to find us. Now that the evil one is dead his spells disappeared with him."

 

"I was an ange once…" Remy whispered, too baffled to really understand the meaning of those words.

 

"An angelic child with devil's eyes. We knew that the body you would inhabit was that of a mutant. It would make you stronger and give you the means to fight the Antiquary. But we never expected the thief moving in."

 

"Poppa made up for his mistake," Remy defended his father. "Jean-Luc saved my life."

 

"Yes, you're right. Jean-Luc LeBeau gave you all the love he's capable of. You're truly blessed, Remiel." Gracefully, he rose from the ground, pulling Remy with him. "You should go to Warren. He's cold."

 

Remy cocked his head and laughed. It amazed him that this angel accepted that he loved a man when some humans couldn't, but decided not to question it. "Can I tell Warren?"

 

"You can tell him," the angel replied tenderly. "Your power will continue to grow."

 

Remy nodded his head. "I feel it buildin'."

 

"Use your power well, brother," the angel whispered affectionately. "We will meet again," he promised as he spread his wings. His task here was done.

 

"Would you… would you tell me your name?" Remy whispered hesitantly. "De way you talked… do I know you?" A golden light shone from the angel's eyes and took Remy aback, as he suddenly felt overwhelmed.

 

"You know my name, Remiel." After smiling one last time, his wings took him to the sky. But he sent one last message into the night. "You prayed at the feet of my statue in the church, Remy. I'm Raphael."

 

Gasping for air, Remy knew it was the truth. Remy looked up, watching as the archangel faded from view. "And finally, I know who I am too."

 

///

 

Warren cracked open one eye and pulled his lover close to his chest. "You're cold." From the corner of his eye he caught the time on the clock. "You stayed out for at least one hour."

 

"Needed to t'ink." Remy shrugged it of. "Cher? Want to stay in bed wid you all night and day."

 

"Wicked Cajun!" Warren teased and kissed his lover's lips. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

 

"Oui, actually I do." Remy looked up shyly. "Can feel it."

 

Warren's right hand tangled in the auburn locks. "Ehm, Rem?"

 

"Oui?" Remy locked eyes with his lover, seeing the sparkling expression.

 

"You got some golden locks too," Warren realized, fingering a strand of hair. "Love it."

 

"Cher," Remy started, ignoring the comment for now, remembering Raphael's words that his powers would gain in strength, "I t'ink I'm ready to go back to Westchester… to face Rogue and den… den I want to spend de rest of my life wid you. No more X-Men. No more duties. No more pain. Just bliss."

 

Pleased, Warren nodded his head. "We will find a way to help the people who need it most, love. We'll use our money to achieve that goal."

 

"De children," Remy agreed. "De sick. We can make a difference."

 

"Agreed. But for now… let's cuddle?"

 

Remy grinned. "Oui, want to hold you for de rest of our lives."

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Impatiently, Scott paced the arrival hall of the airport. Warren's corporate flight was running late! He'd offered to use the Black Bird to pick them up, but Remy and Warren had politely reclined. Checking the time, Scott ordered a cup of steaming coffee and returned to the window, hoping to locate Warren's plane.

 

Things had changed at the mansion and it was still getting worse. Storm still gave Bobby the cold shoulder and had completely ignored Nicholas when Bobby had introduced him to the team. I like Nicholas, Scott admitted. The young man seemed sincere and devoted to Bobby. Good, Drake deserved true love!

 

Then there was Betsy. Ever since he'd told the team about Remy being alive and his brother and Warren being lovers, Betsy had turned icy cold. Even Jean avoided getting close to Bets because of 'the mental cold she radiates," as Jean puts it. Scott shivered, remembering Betsy's venomous looks and was determined to keep a close eye on Warren and Remy while they visited the mansion!

 

But his biggest problem was Rogue. Since Joseph had ended their relationship she'd been throwing tantrums. She was after attention, but after the stunt she'd pulled on Remy, Scott could no longer find it in his heart to play these mind games to please her. The professor had told him that he'd offered Rogue to help her deal with the changes in her life and the problems she faced, but she'd refused all help. Yes, he'd stay close to his brother, not trusting Rogue to leave Remy and Warren in peace. Seeing the two men happy might set of another tantrum and God only knew what Rogue could do in such rage!

 

"Scott?"

 

The voice made Scott jump and quickly he spun around. "Warren! Don't sneak up on me!" The sly grin that greeted him pleases Scott. Warren looked extremely happy! Looking about, Scott quickly located Remy, who was walking up to them while sipping some coffee. Scott sucked in his breath, as Remy removed his sunglasses. The gold on black eyes still took Scott aback, but golden locks had also appeared, mingling with auburn. "Damn, the two of you look happy!" Then, he noticed the rings.

 

"Mebbe dat's 'cause we are happy," Remy whispered shyly, but gave in as Scott pulled him into a hesitant hug. Remy reminded himself that they were brothers and felt a little more comfortable.

 

"Are you're only staying the night?" Scott inquired and helped them carry their luggage.

 

"Oui, we're leaving for Italy tomorrow. Ange wants to show me Venice." Remy sighed. Now came the hard part. "Cyke… Scott," he corrected his mistake, seeing his brother's disapproving glance. "Ange wants an commitment ceremony and den… we're goin' to Venice, Rome, At'ens and I was wonderin'… would you be my best man?" There, he'd said it. Now he had to wait.

 

"Remy, I'd love to!" Scott exclaimed happily. "This is just what I need… happy faces and good vibes!"

 

"That bad?" Warren had noticed the way Scott's shoulders had slumped forward when his friend had thought no one was watching him.

 

"Well, it's hard to keep the peace at the mansion right now. Betsy and Rogue are giving me headaches."

 

"Betsy's at the mansion?" Warren slowed down and suddenly Remy's hand rubbed his back. A warm and soothing sensation slipped inside his mind and Warren welcomed it. He caught Remy's eyes. "We'll face them together."

 

Remy nodded his head, suddenly understanding that Warren felt way more uncomfortable about this confrontation than he did himself. Ever since finding out about his heritage a serene sense of acceptance had settled onto his soul. "We can do dis, cher."

 

They got into the car and Warren smiled, almost crushing a bag of Twinkies on the back seat as he wanted to sit down. "Did Bobby borrow your car?"

 

"Actually, Hank, Bobby and Nicholas 'stole' it to go on a Twinkie run," Scott replied fondly. "They still think I never noticed it."

 

Warren shook his head and laughed warmly. "You want one, Rem?" He offered his lover a Twinkie. Remy accepted and suddenly a sweet fragrance floated through the car. The smell of candy and sugar got to Warren and a fierce blush settled on his face.

 

Remy shot Warren an amused glance, seeing the straining erection press against his lover's jeans. Leaning in closer, he whispered softly, only meant for his lover's ears, "You can' eat dat wit'out growin' aroused?"

 

"What can I say?" Warren grinned smugly. "You smell like this when we make love."

Scott pretended not to hear the silent exchange, but smiled nonetheless.

 

///

 

"Remy!"

 

Before Remy realized what was happening, Jean slammed into him, hugging him breathless. "Chere!" Remy managed to choke out. "Need to breat'e!"

 

"Remy LeBeau! Don't you ever dare to scare me like that again!" Jean chided him. Happiness and anger showed on her face. "I thought you died out there!" Briefly, she was speechless, seeing the golden eyes. My God, what happened to you?

 

"I'm sorry, Jean. Honestly. Mais I lost my memory and…"

 

"I forgive you," she quipped and hugged him again. "I need to reassure myself that you are real!" Next, her eyes drifted to Warren and she gasped seeing the expression in his eyes. Both men had changed. There was such love, such contentment in their minds that it took her aback and then there was this warmth inside Remy's mind that stunned her.

 

"I'm so glad you decided to visit!" Bobby ran down the stairs, smiling happily. "Nicholas is here as well! This is so great! I'm sure you'll like him!" Determinedly, he grabbed Remy's hand and gently squeezed it. "It's so good to have you here! Hank and I spent the last few hours in the kitchen cooking. He's got this secret recipe for lasagne and he wouldn't tell me, but then I got the idea to bribe him with Twinkies and it worked!"

 

Remy smiled warmly, touched by the kindness that shone from Bobby's eyes. For the first time in his life Remy saw Robert Drake the way he really was and he felt honered to be Bobby's friend.

 

Standing in the hall, Scott wanted to urge them to walk into the living room when Storm suddenly appeared. She looked regal and almost emotionless. Her eyes burned with locked away feelings.

 

The emotional distance between them made Remy cringe. He sensed her disapproval at the sight of Warren holding his hand. Poor Stormy. Life ain' black and white. Dere's not only good and evil, right or wrong, dere's also grey. I hope you'll realize dat. I don' want to lose your friendship… or did I already lose it?

 

Remy noticed how Bobby tensed up now that Ororo was close and he couldn't stay quiet. Remy had to at least try and make her understand. "Don' you see how much you're hurtin' us, Stormy? Bobby, Warren and moi are still de same. Bein' in love wid a man doesn' make us less wort'y of your friendship."

 

Storm's eyes grew big. Her lips opened as if to speak up, but then she turned and walked away.

 

"Stormy," Remy whispered shaken. "Please understand."

 

"She will," Bobby assured Remy. "Eventually." But he didn't feel as sure as he pretended. He could only hope Storm would try to understand and accept.

 

"Remy, Warren." Charles had heard Remy's plea and decided to join his students instead of waiting for them in the living room. Seeing Storm walk away showed Charles how much he'd failed as a mentor. Part of him couldn't believe Storm was this prejudiced. Yes, he'd failed.

 

"Professor," Remy nodded politely, uncertain what to say, feeling a stabbing pain. Charles Xavier had never given the order to search for him in Antarctica. Bobby and Scott had returned there on their own accord.

 

Warren's response was a little friendlier. "Sir," he stated pleased. "It's good to find you healthy and back at the mansion." He shuddered, remembering Onslaught.

 

"We cleaned your rooms," Bobby announced, "But I've got this feeling you will end up sharing tonight."

 

"Oui, want ange close," Remy whispered affectionately and enjoyed hearing Jean's giggle. "Mais we will leave in de mornin'."

 

"Rogue is in the living room," Charles informed them.

 

"Guess we better get this over with, Rem," Warren whispered after taking a deep breath. He didn't looking forward to this one!

 

///

 

Remy studied her from the doorway. Rogue sat in an armchair and her fingernails dug into the wood. He knew that expression; she was pissed.

 

"Rem?" Warren inquired, concerned.

 

"I'm bien, cher," Remy replied and stepped inside. "Rogue?"

 

She raised her eyes and stared at him. "Yuh still alive, sugah?" Her fingernails clawed deeper.

 

Distressed, he held her stare. Something bothered him but he couldn't label the feeling. "You left me to die," he pointed out to her, moving closer, knowing Warren and Scott were only a few steps behind him. "Why? I t'ought you loved me. Dat's what you told me." His anger was gone and he wondered why. A deep sadness washed over him, and he finally recognized the lost soul in front of him. Every time he looked at Warren, Scott, Jean, Bobby he saw the light in their eyes. But now that he looked at Rogue, he only saw darkness and she was drowning in it.

 

Rogue rose from the chair and strutted over to her former lover. "Ah loved yuh."

 

He knew the lie hearing her words. "You never did."

 

His words infuriated her. "How can yuh say that, traitor?"

 

"Don' cher," Remy whispered, holding Warren back who was getting angrier all the time. "She feeds of anger."

 

"What are yuh talking about, swamp rat?" Anger flashed in her eyes.

 

"I can' help you," Remy whispered eventually. It had taken him so long to see the truth! "I can see your soul, Rogue and it's pitch black. It wallows in darkness and I can' help you. You are de darkness. You embraced it a long time ago and it consumes you."

 

"Yuh are mad!" Rogue hissed. "My soul? It's yur soul, sugah that's pitch black! Ah didn't get the Morlocks killed! Ah didn't work for Sinister."

 

"Non, you didn'." Remy surprised himself as he managed a calm tone. "You stole and continue to steal bits and pieces of people's souls 'cause you feel so damn empty 'side."

 

Warren sucked in his breath, exchanging a concerned look with Scott. Rogue was pissed, about to lash out and Remy was much too close to her. Warren wanted his lover out of the room.

 

Rogue laughed venomously. "Ah hope Wings is a good fuck! That's what yuh always were after, sugah. Something Ah couldn't give yuh so yuh screw Wings instead? How does it feel, Flyboy? Being second choice?"

 

"Bitch!" Warren exploded with anger and was about to tackle her when strong arms held him back. "Let me go, Slim!"

 

"No way, Warren. She'll kill you," Scott stated determinedly. "She's playing you. Don't give her that much power. Remy understands," he pointed out and felt relieved to see the calm expression in his brother's eyes.

 

"I pity you, Rogue," Remy whispered sincerely. "You search for amour and will never find it. Not as long as you cling to dis darkness."

 

"Ah don't want yur fucking pity!" Rogue exclaimed infuriated, upset that her plan wasn't working. She'd planned on driving them apart, but seeing them together she knew her plan was bound to fail. So she resorted to plan B.

 

"Rem!" Warren tried to warn his lover, but was too late. Rogue wasn't wearing any gloves and forcefully she clutched the Cajun's head between her hands, pressing her lips on his.

 

"No!" Scott knew he had to act quickly, but shock slowed him down. As he tried to pull Rogue away from his brother, Scott realized his attempt was futile. She refused to let go.

 

Remy stared into her eyes, recognizing the need, the despair. I can' help you, Rogue.

 

Rogue's eyes widened, realizing that nothing happened. Remy's memories were still his and so was his life force. Her touch hadn't hurt him, hadn't drained him. "Bastard," she hissed as she pushed Remy away. She'd touched him and nothing had happened?

 

"You can' hurt me, Rogue. You're only hurtin' yourself," and it was the healer inside him who spoke the words. "Look 'side and see what you've become."

 

Rogue staggered away from him, rushed into the next room, shattered the window and flew away. Ah touched him and nothing happened! Tears flowed down her face, flying aimlessly, lost in the darkness of her own making.

 

"Rem? Are you okay? Fuck! My heart almost stopped when she touched you!" Protectively, Warren folded his arms around his lover. There was no trace of fear, hatred or anger in Remy's eyes and Warren swallowed hard. "Damn you Remy for taking such risks! I could have lost you!"

 

"Her soul is lost, ange…" Remy whispered, saddened. "I need to…"

 

Warren caught his lover as Remy fainted. "Dumb Cajun!" he chided affectionately. Seeing Scott's concerned expression, Warren quickly reassured his friend. "Remy will be fine. I guess he just needs time to recuperate."

 

Relieved, Scott nodded his head. "You want some privacy here?"

 

"That would be nice, yes." Warren carried his lover to the sofa, carefully laying him down. "I'm here, love, watching over you." Sitting down, Warren gently stroked the soft locks.

 

///

 

Betsy felt a sting of jealousy, seeing and feeling Warren's concern and love for the Cajun thief. He'd treated her like that once. Treated her like a princess, like a dream come true and then suddenly the illusion had shattered and she blamed a lot of people for that, anyone except herself. She blamed Gambit for gathering the Marauders who'd taken Warren's wings. She blamed Apocalypse for transforming Warren into Death and she blamed Warren himself, for not paying her enough attention. And now Gambit had moved in and seduced Warren. Such irony!

 

She grinned smugly as she stepped inside. Warren didn't even notice her entrance and she felt ignored, feeling the need to get even with him. There had been a time when she'd been the most important thing in his life, something she still wanted to be. If she couldn't have Warren, no one else would and certainly not a thieving traitor!

 

"What do you want, Bets? Still sneaking around?" Warren didn't look at her, his entire attention focused on Remy.

 

"You certainly lowered your standards, Warren, considering you're fucking a traitor now. Did you conveniently forget that he gathered the Marauders, the people who took your wings?"

 

Finally, Warren looked her in the eyes and saw the cold. "I can't believe I ever loved you, Bets."

 

"You loved my body. You loved being seen with me at your arm."

 

"Maybe you're right about that," Warren admitted with a bitter taste in his mouth. "But I discovered that it's inner beauty that counts and you, Bets, are cold as ice."

 

She raised an eyebrow. "So you settle for… him?" Loathing filled her tone. "He's a thief, a traitor and you want him?"

 

Warren laughed at her puzzlement. "I don't expect you to understand, Bets. But remember, you dumped me. Don't pretend you're jealous. I found the love of my life and I suggest you get a life of your own that doesn't involve me. Just leave us alone and don't you dare sneak into his mind!"

 

"Like I want to be inside a traitor's mind in the first place. You're making a mistake, but it'll be too late once you realize that. Don't think I will take you back then!" Deciding that this wasn't worth her time, she turned to leave the room.

 

"Just leave us alone, Bets," Warren warned her and sighed as the door closed behind her. As he looked down at Remy, he stared into sparkling eyes. "You're awake? How much did you hear?"

 

"All of it," Remy confessed. "Cher, je t'aime," he professed passionately. "Will be glad when we can leave dis place."

 

"Me too," Warren sighed. "I want to get out of here too."

 

///

 

Dinner was a pleasant surprise. Rogue, Betsy and Storm had excused themselves so the circle consisted only of friends. Remy smiled contentedly. Bobby and Nicholas made a cute couple and he instinctively liked the young history student. During dinner, he'd suddenly found himself in a discussion with Nicholas and Warren about Monet and Remy had loved every word of it.

 

From the corner of his eye Remy caught Scott looking at him and Remy cocked his head in reply. Family… this little group felt like family and before he knew it, Remy said, "I want to invite all of you for our commitment ceremony," and he looked pleadingly at his friends. Bobby, Nicholas, Jean, Scott, Hank and the professor.

 

"I'm honored, Remy," Charles said after a moment's thought. "But I can't leave right now. Not while Rogue is acting like this."

 

"I understand," Remy acknowledged and looked at the others.

 

"We'll be there," Bobby promised while holding Nicholas' hand.

 

"So will we," Scott stated determinedly. "I'm going to be best man! Maybe I should give my baby brother away?" He noticed Remy's shocked grin at the word baby brother.

 

"I will most certainly attend this beautiful ceremony," Hank reassured them.

 

"Logan and your dad will also be there," Warren told Remy and noticed the Cajun's surprised glance. "I just received an e-mail from Jean-Luc. They will fly in for the ceremony."

 

Feeling blessed and happy, Remy claimed Warren's hand, pressed a kiss on the palm and smiled.

 

///

 

Venice, Italy

 

"I'm nervous," Remy muttered weakly.

 

"I understand, Remy." Scott nodded his head. "I felt like that when I married Jean. You'll be nervous all evening." Smiling contentedly, he studied his brother's appearance. Remy and Warren had insisted on casual clothing, making it a rule that no one was allowed to wear a tuxedo. "Great looks must run in the family, Remy," Scott remarked teasingly.

 

Remy straightened out his black jacket made of velvet and his hand ran over the black silk shirt he wore underneath it. Black jeans and boots completed the outfit. Nervously, Remy fumbled the ring. "Merci, Scott." Remy grinned, realizing he was getting used to calling him Scott and not Cyke.

 

"Warren planned quite the honeymoon, huh?" Scott smiled, remembering Warren's enthusiastic tone when he'd told them they were going to travel Italy and Greece.

 

"Don' tell him, mais I plan on addin' Paris to dat list. Want him to see de Louvre and L'Opera."

 

"I got this feeling the two of you will be very happy," Scott stated pleased. "And leave Rogue to me. I can deal with her."

 

"I still feel sorry for her," Remy whispered as he looked over at the door. Only a few more minutes and he'd walk into the small church to exchange vows. "Never t'ought ange would insist on doin' dis."

 

"No matter what Warren might say, he's kind of old fashioned. He wants to do this right, take the vows and make this official."

 

"It's a pity no priest wanted to guide us t'rough it and give us his blessin'," Remy whispered. "Guess I'm old fashioned too." It shouldn't matter, knowing he had an angel's blessing, but… it would have been the finishing touch to this ceremony.

 

"You'll walk out there, exchange vows and then you'll have a great honeymoon," Scott whispered and rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You love him and he loves you. Isn't that the only thing that matters, Remy?"

 

"You're right," Remy gave in. "Scott… have you heard from… from… Corsair?" So far he'd avoided discussing their father.

 

"No, Remy. I'm sorry. I've got no idea how to contact him, but should I find him… do you want me to tell him that you didn't die?"

 

"You t'ink he can handle dat?" Remy looked up questioningly.

 

"Yes," Scott stated firmly. "Come on, Warren's waiting."

 

Remy took a deep breath and then walked into the ancient church.

 

///

 

Warren constantly shuffled his feet. What the hell was taking Remy this long? Again, he checked the time. Five minutes late! The Cajun was five minutes late! Suddenly he felt like a bride stood up at the altar. His wings itched underneath the blue jacket and he hoped he could quickly free them. He wanted to take Remy flying tonight, wanted to show him Venice at night and he planned on keeping his promise to make love to his Cajun lover in the warm night sky.

 

Jean-Luc gave Warren a glance filled with understanding. Jean-Luc had agreed to be master of ceremonies this evening to make sure nothing went wrong. Logan stood next to Hank and Jean and Jean-Luc smiled at his lover. Maybe a commitment ceremony would work for them too, but at a later time. They weren't ready yet.

 

"At last!" Warren mumbled relieved. Remy and Scott walked up to him and his lover's smug grin reassured Warren. Remy was comfortable with this.

 

"Mon fils," Jean-Luc started, looking at the two men in front of him, "you already exchanged rings, now it's time to also speak de words." He stepped back, joining Logan. "I always hoped my son would find a lover who accepts him de way he is… and he found dat love."

 

Logan nodded his head. "Ya were right back then. They work out." He vividly remembered his doubt when Warren had returned to New Orleans to claim Remy as his lover. "Yer a great dad and now ya got two sons."

 

Jean-Luc looked down and then smiled. A grey wolf growled chidingly, telling them to be quiet. "Wolvie…" Jean-Luc mumbled and remembered Logan's first reaction to the canine.

 

Logan shook his head. "They will never get rid of that wolf."

 

///

 

"I'll go first?" Warren looked at his lover, seeing a nervous twitch near Remy's left eye. They'd agreed on changing their original vows, turning things slightly around.

 

"Bien, cher," Remy whispered in a hoarse tone. Merde, he was nervous! Warren claimed Remy's hand and rubbed the Claddagh ring. Remy's fingers met warm flesh in the process. The caress made Remy quaver.

 

Warren cleared his throat and looked deeply into his lover's golden eyes. "Do you promise to always love me? Do you promise to never leave me, to never turn your back on me? Do you promise to always tell me what bothers you? Will you never hide pain? Will you let me comfort you when you need it? Let me support you when you're ill?"

 

Remy's eyes watered. "Oui, I promise."

 

"Do you promise to cuddle after sex?" Warren added teasingly, trying hard to ignore the giggling behind his back. "Do you promise to cook me a Cajun meal at least once a month?"

 

"Oui," Remy sighed and gently squeezed his lover's hand. "I promise all dat and more. Je t'aime, cher."

 

Pleased, Warren pressed a kiss on the back of Remy's hand. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Remy. Will you have me?"

 

"Oui," Remy's voice trembled, touched by the vulnerability and love in Warren's eyes.

 

"Your turn, love," Warren gently reminded Remy and realized that his own eyes were watering too.

 

Remy licked his lips. "Do you promise to never leave me? To always love me? Do you promise to let me in when you're in pain? Never hide dat pain from me? Lean on me when you need de support, to let me be your strengt' when you need it?"

 

"Yes," Warren promised passionately and took a step closer to Remy. "I promise all dat and more. I promise to love you forever, to keep you safe from all harm."

 

"Cher, I want to spend de rest of my life wid you. Do you want to grow old togeder?" Remy looked up, hearing the sighs coming from the small group of friends. He smiled at the sight of tears in Jean's eyes. Bobby and Nicholas were holding each other and Remy relished seeing the happiness in poppa and Logan's eyes.

 

"I'll never let you go," Warren vowed and pulls Remy close enough to press a kiss on the tips of Remy's fingers. "You're mine and I'm yours… forever!"

 

"Oh, this is so…" Jean sighed happily, leaning against Scott. Words failed her, feeling the warmth and love that passed between her two friends.

 

Warren and Remy looked into each other's eyes. "Guess we're husband and husband," Warren said eventually.

 

"Yes, you are."

 

Remy's eyes sparkled hearing that voice and he pulled Warren with him as he turned around. An old priest walked up to them, smiling at them, nodding his approval.

 

"I'm sorry I'm late, but…"

 

Warren's eyes grew big. "Père Etienne?"

 

Bobby sighed, hoping Nicholas and he'd one day be ready to take this step as well. Maybe this old priest would be willing to marry them? He watched contentedly as the priest blessed the couple and then congratulated them.

 

"I can't stay, Remiel…"

 

"I understand… Raphael," Remy whispered, touched, and pulled Warren's hand close to his chest. "I told Warren," he informed Raphael.

 

"I must admit that I didn't really believe it at first…But… I guess this means Remy is an angel?"

 

"Remiel was an angel and one day, he will be an angel again," Raphael corrected Warren. "Cherish this treasure you've found," he adviced Warren and then scanned the small group of Remy's friends. His work here was almost done. "One of your friends is hiding in the corridor, afraid she isn't welcome. Go to her, Remiel."

 

Raphael left the church and Remy suddenly felt a terrible loss, but then he remembered Raphael's parting words. "Cher?" he looked questioningly at Warren.

 

"Let's find out what he was talking about." Warren led Remy to the doorway.

 

Jean-Luc and Logan, feeling concerned after the unexpected visit from this unknown priest, followed.

 

"Stormy?" Remy whispered surprised. She was pacing the corridor, wringing her hands.

 

"Remy, I…" she paused and looked up apologetically. "I thought about your words. You are right. I hurt you by letting this matter. I hurt Bobby as well and I…" Pleadingly, she looked into Remy's eyes. "I want to be part of your life."

 

"Oh, Stormy!" Remy smiled and hugged her close. "I wanted you to be here today!"

 

Pleased, Warren watched them. He knew how much Storm's rejection had hurt Remy. Hopefully, she'd done away with her prejudice. "Thanks for joining us here, Storm. Why don't you come inside? Bobby and Nicholas are here too."

 

"I owe Nicholas an apology," Storm said, composing herself again and even wiping away a lost tear from her face. Staring into Remy's shining eyes she knew she'd made the right decision. "I want to get to know Nicholas…"

 

"I'm so proud of you, Stormy," Remy mumbled happily.

 

Teasingly, she slapped his chest. "I forbid you to call me that!"

 

"True," Remy admitted and took hold of Storm and Warren's hands, pulling them along to join his friends again. "Mais rules are made to be broken!" His laughter echoed through the church and carried to the heavens.

 

"Live your life, be loved and give love," Raphael whispered, feeling Remy's happiness. "Live your life and be an angel amongst men."

 

TBC


	5. Hold Fast That Which Is Good.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Heaven Sent. Main pairing is Remy/Warren. Rating; NC-17.   
> Remy and Warren's love deepens during their honeymoon, which gets cut   
> short because Warren's brother dies and leaves behind his son Jason. Now,   
> Remy and Warren face the challenge of raising a prejudiced 15 years old.  
> Scott has to deal with Corsair's unexpected arrival and now has to tell his  
> father that Corsair's youngest son is alive. In the meantime, Warren and  
> Jason come to blows. Enraged, Jason decides to leave Warren and Remy.

Note: sadly enough Italic depicting thought didn't survive the formatting. Warning! This story deals with the after match of child abuse and rape.

 

Until I met Remy, I didn't know what love was about. I thought I knew. Betsy and I seemed so right for each other, that I never wondered *why*. In hindsight, I realize we were the perfect match because we were both self-centred and egocentric.

 

Remy taught me everything I know about love. I never realized how rewarding it was to *give* love, to *give* pleasure and to care for another person that deeply. Betsy and I never gave; we took from each other what we wanted. But Remy's love opened my eyes.

 

Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third fell in love with a Cajun thief, a man whom I always despised. But when he saved my life in New Orleans he altered my life irreversibly. I can never go back to being the arrogant playboy that I used to be.

 

I like to think that I've become a better person because of Remy. When we met, Remy was in a lot of emotional pain and when I realized that he was in love with me, I ran. I ran as hard as I could, but love never let me go.

 

In the months that we've been together, I've seen Remy cry when nightmares tormented his sleep. I've seen him laugh when our mutual teasing reached new creative heights and I've witnessed how Remy lost himself in our lovemaking.

 

Trusting me enough to make love was extremely hard on Rem. His experiences with the Antiquary (thank God the bastard's dead!) and later when he lived on the streets, made him very afraid of intimacy. We face his fears together and Remy still hasn't overcame all of them. We talk about those fears when another nightmare caught him off guard in his sleep.

 

We've got communication down and that's probably what makes this relationship work. We talk about our fears, our pain, but we also discuss our hope and love. In the beginning we tried to hide our real feelings because we were afraid to hurt the other. But we quickly realized that being honest could save our love. It's important that we address his fears, his nightmares, because it ensures Remy that we're working through his past *together*. He doesn't have to do this alone.

 

Most of his nightmares are about the Antiquary and the abuse Remy suffered at the sorcerer's hands. It always takes a lot of coaxing and reassurances on my part before Remy allows me to hold him. When he's in such an emotional state, my touch reminds him of the Antiquary's. At nights like those I wish I were a telepath so I could erase those horrible memories from his mind. But I doubt he'd let me do that. Those terrifying experiences made Remy the man he's today, my lover.

 

And Remy's the best lover I've ever had. He's incredibly considerate and always puts my needs first. Remy will take all the time he needs to make love to me. He'll never rush things or ignore my needs… for two reasons. The Antiquary hurt Remy really bad and my Cajun lover would never forgive himself should he hurt me in that same way. The second reason is his empathy. He knows what I want, what I need.

 

Now I've got to admit to something I *should* feel ashamed of, but I don't. I use Remy's empathy consciously to steer our lovemaking. There are things that Remy's uncomfortable with when we're making love and I don't want him to do those things. So I send him thoughts and images of the things I want him to do that I know he's comfortable with.

 

One of the things Remy's terribly uncomfortable with is going down on me and although he has offered to do it, I refused. I know that the Antiquary forced Remy to go down on him when Remy was only a small child. From what Remy told me he lived with that bastard until he was 7 or 8. I can't imagine how horrific that time must have been on him.

 

So I'll never urge him to go down on me. Don't get me wrong. I'd probably die from ecstasy should Remy ever work up the courage to make me come in that way, but I'll never push him. Our love life is the best I ever had, and it doesn't matter that I'm the bottom in this relationship.

 

That surprised me the most, I guess, the fact that I enjoy feeling Remy inside me. I've always been the ladies man. I've always been on top of the game, but with Remy I can surrender. Remy never wanted to be on top, but it's the only way for him to make love to me that intimately.

 

I tried to relax him enough so he'd enjoy me rimming him. I love it when he does that to me. It's one of the things that make me plea, make me beg for more and Remy's really talented. That tongue of his is divine. I once tried to repay that favor, but Remy grew completely motionless. Remy'd locked out my presence and I needed long minutes to bring him back from that dark hiding place inside his mind.

 

We'll continue to work through his fears. Together we can beat the demons that haunt him. Remy lets me in, lets me fight at his side and I love him for trusting me like that. Now that we're on our honeymoon, I'm sure more of his demons will raise their ugly heads. Ah, but maybe I've been reading too many of the books that Jean-Luc gave me on child abuse, but I can't shake the feeling that we still need to deal with some major issues. Warren smiled at his lover, who was tucked away beneath his arms.

 

"Are you comfortable, love?" Warren caressed a lock of golden hair. The golden locks had appeared when Remy had realized that his charm was in fact a healing power. Warren loved the gold on black eyes and the golden strands of hair.

 

"Oui, mon amour," Remy whispered blissfully. "Tell me where we're goin'?" So far Warren had insisted their destination stayed a secret. Remy had tried hard to make Warren give in, but had failed.

 

Remy still couldn't believe that they really were on their honeymoon. Warren had chosen Venice to start their honeymoon and Remy hadn't objected, only expressing his hope they'd visit Paris as well. Of course Warren had given in. Remy had learned to wrap his lover around his little finger.

 

"Not yet, love." Warren leaned in closer and pressed a gentle kiss on Remy's brow. "It's a surprise." Remy sighed deeply, trying to pretend annoyance, but Warren knew him too well to be fooled. "I'll never forget how gorgeous you looked when you spoke your vows."

 

Remy's eyes closed as he mentally replayed their commitment ceremony. Although they'd committed to each other when they'd still been in Ireland, they'd wanted a more official ceremony. Opening his eyes, they locked on the ring he was wearing. Warren had given him a Claddagh ring, and Remy cherished the gift deeply. Remy stole a glance at Warren's finger. His lover wore a similar ring. 

 

The gondola moved slowly over the water and Remy looked up at the setting sun. It was almost evening and the reflected rays of the sun made the water look like liquid gold.

 

"Je t'aime, Ange," Remy whispered in a sudden emotional tone. At times it still baffled Remy that Warren wanted him. He'd tested Warren's patience and love countless times when they'd lived in Ireland and Warren had come through every time. Why want damaged goods like moi? Warren knows what de Antiquary did to me. In bed, he can' even take me 'cause I'm 'fraid of relivin' de abuse. And den dere are de times dat I freak out on him 'cause he touches me in a way dat I associate wit' bein' touched by de Antiquary. And yet, Warren was at his side, had promised to love him until death would part them.

 

Warren sensed Remy's melancholy and opted for distraction. "Do you think Bobby and Nick will want a commitment ceremony in time? Or what about Jean-Luc and Logan? Can you imagine them exchanging vows?"

 

Remy chuckled softly, as ancient palazzo's passed them by. "Bobby and Nick? Oui? Mais Père and Logan? Mebbe in time." Remy rested the back of his head on Warren's shoulder. Warren's arms were tightly wrapped around his waist and contentedly, Remy sighed. "Remember when we first met in N'awlings? De assassins had shot y' and I wanted to save mon ange's life."

 

Warren only remembered too vividly that he'd scolded Remy when he'd regained consciousness, calling Remy a traitor and looking at him with disgust. Then another memory pushed away the first. "I nearly died when you shielded me from those daggers."

 

Remy's hand rested against Warren's chest and the Cajun felt how his lover's heart sped up. "Was dat when y' realized y' loved me?" Remy would never grow tired of listening to Warren's voice. Sometimes he instigated these talks just to hear Warren confess his love again.

 

"I didn't realize it at that time," Warren replied thoughtfully. "I wasn't ready to admit that I loved a man. It hit me later when I talked to Bobby. Suddenly I found myself rushing back to New Orleans, hoping that I'd find you there."

 

Remy nodded against Warren's chest. "Y' weren't de only one who didn' want to admit to bein' in love."

 

"Rem?" Curiously, Warren cupped Remy's chin in his hand and waited for the Cajun to lock eyes with him.

 

"I've been t'inkin' 'bout it," Remy admitted. "I must have been in love wit' y' 'fore findin' y' in N'awlings. Didn' want to admit it eit'er," he said reluctantly. Warren had always fascinated Remy. Although Remy'd known that Warren was a mutant, he'd always hoped that part of Warren was really angelic. And only days ago, Remy'd found out that he possessed an angel's soul himself.

 

Warren decided not to go there. Discussing this further would lead them to addressing Rogue and Warren knew that Remy hadn't dealt with her betrayal yet. Thankfully, they'd arrived at their destination and Warren pulled Remy to his feet as the gondola came to a stop.

 

"Cher?" Surprised, Remy wondered why they'd stopped.

 

"This is the Palazzo Duodo. It's basically a hotel, but I own it and we'll have it to ourselves this weekend. There won't be any other guests." Warren thoroughly enjoyed the expression in Remy's eyes. "Let's move, love." Wolvie, who'd been half asleep at their feet, left the gondola first.

 

Remy followed Warren, wondering what else his lover was up to.

 

///

 

"Cher, c'est magnifique!" Remy really loved the hotel's antique interior. "Didn' know y' owned hotels in Venice!" Impressed, Remy caught Warren's eyes. His lover had cancelled all reservations, offering the original guests a free vacation at a later date to make up for the inconvenience.

 

Warren took hold of Remy's hand and rubbed its knuckles. "There's an exhibit on contemporary art in a nearby gallery. Do you want to check it out this evening?" He'd planned several activities, which he hoped would interest his lover. "We can go out for dinner first."

 

"Y're spoilin' me rotten," Remy whispered softly, as the maid closed the door behind them. They'd arrived at their suite and Remy stared at the heavenly four-poster-bed with satin sheets. Wolvie immediately headed for one of the comfortable couches in the living area and went back to sleep.

 

"I love spoiling you, love," Warren replied in a gentle tone and folded an arm around Remy's waist. "Are you happy?" Making Remy happy was the most important thing in his life. In former days Warren had only worried about his own happiness, and his lover had come second. Things had certainly changed.

 

"Oui, I'm happy, cher," Remy sighed and leaned in close enough to claim Warren's lips. The hesitant kiss quickly progressed in to an expression of pure love and affection.

 

Warren couldn't help growing aroused and thrust weakly against his lover's groin. "You drive me crazy, Remy," he admitted in a hoarse tone.

 

"Let me take care of y'," he offered. Remy pulled Warren towards the bed and pushed him on to his back. Straddling his lover's hips, Remy returned to kissing Warren's lips.

 

Warren's hand slipped down to caress the bulge he expected to find in Remy's trousers, but found none. Remy wasn't erect at all. "What's going on, love?" Making love would never be 'normal' for them and Warren had accepted that when they'd gotten together. Every time they endeavoured to make love, Remy fought his demons all over again. Warren admired Remy's determination to overcome his troubled past, but Warren also knew that the Cajun pushed himself to do things he wasn't ready for.

 

"Want to make y' come," Remy breathed.

 

But the dark, hooded eyes gave the Cajun away and Warren gently took hold of Remy's talented hands, which had found a way passed the waistband of his briefs. "We don't have to make love when you're not in the mood, Rem. It's okay to say no."

 

Remy froze. "Mais I want to do dis for y'."

 

"You don't have to get me off because I've got a hard-on, Rem. I'm not a horny teenager. This should be about love, not lust, remember?" In the early days, Remy had tried to use sex to keep Warren close because the Cajun had been afraid of being deserted. "Why don't we cuddle? You know how much I love to cuddle."

 

"I'm sorry, cher," Remy whispered and rested his body on Warren's, allowing his lover to bury him in a warm hug. His face rested on Warren's chest and Remy concentrated on his lover's breathing. "Don' know why I did dat."

 

"Do you really want to make love?"

 

"Wanted to make y' come."

 

"Why?" Warren waited for Remy to cock his head so they could make eye contact. It looked like they were going to have one of *those* talks again. "We made love only yesterday and it was beautiful."

 

"Mais y' never get to be on top!" Remy suddenly blurted out. Horrified at what he'd just admitted to, he closed his eyes, wishing he'd never spoken those words aloud.

 

Warren sighed, realizing his suspicions had been right all along. "You feel guilty," he stated determinedly.

 

"Oui," Remy confessed softly. "Y' can' even take me 'cause…"

 

"Say it, love," Warren didn't want any unspoken fears between them. Holding his lover close, he tried to radiate calm and love, knowing that Remy's empathy would pick up on it. "It's okay to say it."

 

"'cause de Antiquary messed wit' my mind," Remy said in a bitter tone. "It ain't fair."

 

Warren's fingers tangled in Remy's hair. "Go on, love, tell me." They were getting closer to the heart of the matter and he already knew what Remy would say next.

 

"It ain't fair dat y' have to be on de receivin' end all de time. Want y' to enjoy it too." Remy averted his eyes. This had been haunting him since they'd first made love. Every time they had sex, he ended up on top, taking Warren.

 

Warren chose his next words carefully. "When we make love that way, what do you sense from me, empathy wise?"

 

Remy trembled in Warren's arms. "Love…" He'd made sure that Warren wasn't in any pain when he took his lover, but… "We should be able to reverse roles."

 

"Rem, listen, love," Warren said firmly and his hands clutched Remy's head, making sure his lover listened closely. "I love it when you take me. I love it when you're inside me. It makes me feel incredible close to you. I make love to you because I want to express my feelings for you. I don't say yes because I feel like I have to. It's my choice, love." Closely studying Remy's eyes, Warren realized that he wasn't getting through to the Cajun.

 

"Mais, I remember how it felt, bein' on de bottom and… I'm sure y' would rat'er be on top," Remy whispered his fear, his doubts. The fact that Warren was still holding him tight ensured Remy that his lover understood.

 

"Rem, even if we never make love in *that particular way*, I won't leave you. I understand where you're coming from and why you're scared to be taken." Warren wished he knew the words that would make Remy understand. "There are so many ways to make love. Please don't think you're failing me."

 

"Mais I want y' to take me!" Remy whispered in an emotional tone. His empathy told him that Warren's words mirrored his lover's feelings, but… "Y' used to be on top all de time wit' de ladies…"

 

Warren sighed, exasperated. "Rem, this is obviously very important to you. Please realize that I love you and that it doesn't matter to me whether I get to penetrate you or not. I can make love to you without being inside you. I'm so happy right now, holding you in my arms. Having you close and feeling you is all I need."

 

Remy realized that Warren was completely sincere. It didn't bother Warren that there were limitations to what they could do in bed, but it did bother him. "Would y' help me to make dat step?" Pressing his lips on Warren's brow, Remy tried to communicate that he'd gotten the message. "I want to work on dis."

 

"Why don't you try working on it yourself first? Without me present there would be a lot less pressure on you." Warren saw Remy's confused expression. "Why not try to touch yourself in that way? I know it frightens you to lose control. Why not explore your body that way privately? Then, when you feel comfortable you could try and share it with me? If you want to do this, we'll have to take small steps."

 

Enthusiastically, Remy nodded his head. "I can do dat, mon amour." Why hadn't he thought of it himself? "What 'bout y'?" Warren was still hard and Remy suddenly felt incredibly insecure. Warren had gone down on him several times, but Remy had been unable to do the same for Warren. The act reminded him too much of being abused by the Antiquary. 

 

"You've got talented fingers, love," Warren hinted. "They were doing a great job." He could tell Remy wanted to pleasure him, but Warren felt reluctant to go ahead with it. Remy had to realize that there were times when holding each other was more than sufficient.

 

"Cher," Remy whispered and his right hand pushed down Warren's jeans. "I love de way y' look when y' come." It was the truth. Warren had this incredible lost and adoring look on his face when he hit orgasm.

 

Warren let Remy decide, after all, this was their honeymoon. "I'm so incredibly lucky to have you, Rem," he whispered and sighed as his lover's fingers curled around his erection. "Kiss me, love." Warren arched his back and claimed Remy's lips. He'd love to bring Remy to orgasm too, but the Cajun wasn't aroused, so Warren concentrated on sparkling the passion that was hiding inside Remy. Spreading his legs to give Remy easier access, Warren bucked against his lover's hand. "Feels so good, Rem. You're the only one who can make me lose my mind." His hands caressed Remy's face and hair.

 

Warren's soft fingers made Remy tremble. He slowly stroked Warren's slippery cock, taking his time and concentrating on putting all the love he felt for Warren in his ministrations. "Je t'aime, mon amour," Remy whispered and covered Warren's body with his, while keeping up the stimulation.

 

"I love you too, Cajun," Warren whispered and tensed up as Remy's fingers teased against the head of his erection. One fingertip probed against his slit and Warren thrust involuntarily. Warren gently grabbed the back of Remy's neck and pulled the Cajun close enough to brush Remy's lips. "We're making love now," he breathed into Remy's mouth.

 

Remy swallowed hard. "I wish I could give y' more, cher."

 

"This is all I need," Warren assured him. His body tensed up as he approached orgasm. "One finger, Rem, please… I'm so close…"

 

Remy nodded his head, and pressed one slick finger against his lover's entrance. He didn't let it slip inside yet. Remy was content to massage the outer ring of muscle for now, relaxing Warren completely.

 

"Oh, Rem," Warren moaned and arched his hips. "You don't know how good this feels," he whispered as the tip of Remy's finger made it inside his body. The sensation drove him over the edge and he came hard in Remy's hand. "Please push," he begged, riding that first wave of orgasm.

 

Remy obeyed, still puzzled at how having a finger inserted in his body could make Warren lose it so completely. Remy only remembered the pain and shame from his childhood that had accompanied the invasion. Opening his shields hesitantly, he tried to focus on Warren's pleasure and Remy shared Warren's ecstasy. Warren was pushing down, trying to take in more of Remy's finger and the Cajun's eyes grew big, feeling the waves of ecstasy that washed through Warren. Would he feel the same way if he asked Warren to push one finger inside his body? Did he own the courage to find out?

 

"I love you so much it sometimes frightens me," Warren confessed in the heat of the moment. "I can't envision life without you, Rem."

 

Remy had never heard a more passionate declaration of love. Warren was still trembling, riding out his orgasm and was utterly incapable of hiding his feelings. Those feelings hit Remy full force, seeping into his very soul. A single tear escaped Remy's eyes. "Can' live wit'out y', mon amour. Never leave me."

 

Remy used the sheet to clean Warren up and then rolled his lover on top of his body. "Please hold me?"

 

Warren nodded his head. He'd hoped to find Remy erect after the Cajun had experienced his orgasm, but Warren's fingers only encountered a limp cock. Remy was really worried about their love life. "It was perfect," Warren assured his lover. "Don't fret, love."

 

Remy closed his eyes and groaned as Warren's lips descended on to his eyelids, kissing them and teasing his eye lashes. "Ange…"

 

Warren continued to shower his lover with tender kisses. He brushed Remy's closed eyes and then claimed his lover's luscious lips. "Feel me?" he asked softly. "Feel my love for you? Let me in?"

 

"Shields are open," Remy mumbled lost and felt how his cock woke up, suddenly interested in Warren's probing strokes.

 

Delighted, Warren noticed the semi-hard cock that pushed against the confines of Remy's jeans. "Is this okay with you?" Warren asked softly, seeking permission before going further.

 

"Oui," Remy moaned as Warren's hands unbuttoned his shirt. He opened his eyes and found that Warren had released his wings. "Y're magnifique," Remy mumbled, quickly losing himself in the passion that Warren's mind radiated.

 

Warren pushed Remy's shirt back and licked his lips, finding erect nipples beneath his fingertips. "Just try to enjoy this, love." Remy tensed a little, but Warren didn't feel discouraged. His tongue lavished one hard nipple and his fingers gently rubbed the other neglected one. "You're beautiful, Rem."

 

Remy snorted a little at that. "Y' need glasses, cher." How could Warren pretend not to see the numerous scars that disfigured his body?

 

"You're perfect," Warren continued in a seductive tone, as his lips left a trail of kisses down Remy's stomach. His fingers unzipped Remy's jeans and pulled down the jeans and briefs. Yes, Remy was hard. Feeling excited, Warren stroked Remy's erection exploratory. "I want to taste you, love." Warren remembered the first time he'd licked Remy's cock. The Cajun had almost had a panic attack, because it had sent Remy's thoughts back to the Antiquary's rooms. Warren had grown used to telling Remy what he'd do next and the panic attacks had disappeared.

 

Remy quavered violently as Warren's tongue slid over the head of his erection. When Warren had first gone down on him, Remy had been afraid that his lover would end up loathing him for allowing this to happen. But Warren had really taken to this particular activity and Remy had let go of some of his apprehension.

 

Warren let his fingers slide down his lover's length and then caressed Remy's perineum. A delightful moan escaped Remy and Warren smiled contentedly. In the beginning, this caress had freaked Remy out. Now the Cajun could relax in to it.

 

His lips closed over Remy's cock and his tongue swirled around the tip of his lover's erection. Remy bucked hard and Warren relaxed his throat, preparing himself to take in his lover's length.

 

Remy cried out as Warren swallowed more of him. Involuntarily, his hips arched and he thrust wildly in to the warm and wet mouth that surrounded him. I want to do dis for Ange, too. Remy felt guilty for not returning this favor. A moment later, all thoughts stopped running around in circles, as Warren suckled his erection. Remy called out his lover's name and buried his hands in the satin sheets, clawing the fabric. "Mon amour… please… so close…"

 

"Do you want to take that next step, love?" Warren asked, momentarily releasing his lover's throbbing cock. Maybe if he drove Remy mad with passion, his lover would be able to do away with some of his fears. "I won't hurt you, Rem. Never." His agile fingers slowly stroked Remy's cock, and one fingertip pressed against his lover's perineum. "Do you trust me?"

 

Remy's eyes flashed open and locked with Warren. Did his lover know what he was asking? How much the idea of being penetrated scared him? But then he remembered the way Warren had felt when Remy had pushed that one finger inside. It was just a finger and Warren would stop if he said so. "Oui," he whispered in a tiny tone.

 

Remy's erection returned to semi-erect state in his hand and Warren recognized the fear in his lover's eyes. "Please trust me, Rem." Warren whispered before his lips closed over Remy's cock again. He teased the organ and suckled it. Remy's cock quickly retained its former hardness.

 

With one practiced move, Warren uncovered the lube he'd unpacked earlier. He refused to take any chances and covered his index finger with a generous amount of Wet. Then, he simply rested his fingertip against Remy's puckered opening. "Tell me how it feels," Warren instructed, pressing a kiss on the tip of Remy's cock. Slowly pumping his lover, Warren locked eyes with Remy.

 

"Slippery," Remy mumbled surprised. "What are y' doin', cher?" It felt like Warren was massaging his entrance, never inserting his finger.

 

"Relaxing your muscles. Worked for me the first time you took me, love." Warren lay down on his side, pulling Remy close to him. "Hey, look at me, Rem."

 

Remy opened his eyes again and blushed. "I feel…"

 

"Exposed? Vulnerable?" Warren supplied and carefully probed the tightness of Remy's outer muscle. "Want to stop?" Remy was tense, but was obviously working on relaxing his body. "It's okay to say no, remember?"

 

"Non, I don' want to stop," Remy whispered. His breath came in spurts. Warren was still pumping his shaft and Remy moaned, realizing how close he was to completion, even in spite of that one finger that was slowly pressing inside. "Cher, I'm scared."

 

"I know, Rem, I know." Warren's finger froze, only his fingertip was buried inside Remy's body. "Does this hurt?"

 

"Non," Remy panted, as Warren increased the speed of his strokes. "Doesn' feel uncomfortable."

 

"Good, do you want me to continue? You're about to come, Rem and this can make it so much better." Warren held his breath as Remy tried to reach a decision.

 

"Don' stop. Don' know if I'll ever have de courage 'gain," Remy whispered. If he hadn't been bordering on orgasm, he'd never have given Warren permission.

 

"Trust me, Rem. Relax. I love you," Warren whispered and carefully massaged the tight passage before pushing in a little deeper. His finger was half way in and he stopped applying pressure. Remy had taken a huge step today and Warren wasn't going to blow it. "You feel… hot," he whispered seductively in to Remy's ear. His lover bucked, thrust into his hand and Warren licked Remy's nipple.

 

Remy involuntarily pushed down on Warren's finger when orgasm took hold of him. A startled moan flowed through the room, when Warren's finger slid in to the knuckle. Remy shook violently as his lover's fingertip brushed his prostate. His orgasm echoed through his body and Remy felt how his inner muscle contracted around Warren's digit.

 

"Oh Rem," Warren elbowed himself in to a sitting position and kissed the Cajun passionately. His lover's body trembled fiercely and a wave of hot completion dripped from his fingers. "You're mine, forever," Warren panted in between kisses.

 

Remy stared in to Warren's eyes, only too well aware of the fact that his orgasm had been much stronger than usual because Warren had inserted that one digit. "An…ge," Remy whispered, spent. "I liked it," he admitted in a broken tone.

 

"Hey, you're supposed to like it," Warren corrected him. "It's okay to like it." It'd take them a long time to undo the damage the Antiquary had inflicted on Remy. "How does this feel?" Slowly, Warren started to pull back, but on his way out, he massaged his lover's passage.

 

Tears dripped from Remy's face. Tiny waves of ecstasy still coursed through him and Warren was doing this incredible thing inside his body. It had never felt like this when the Antiquary had penetrated him. It was hard to accept that this intrusion now brought pleasure instead of pain. "Ange… I… I… can'…"

 

"Hush now," Warren pulled back from Remy's trembling body and wrapped his lover up in a warm embrace. "Try to calm down first and then we'll talk, all right?"

 

Remy nodded his head and relaxed in to the comfort and warmth of Warren's closeness. Finally, trusting his voice to sound sort of steady again, Remy said, "I expected pain… and bad memories."

 

"Did I hurt you?" Warren asked concerned.

 

"Non, y' didn', cher… mais de Antiquary did and every time when y' touch me… *dere*, I feel ashamed."

 

"You took a great step today. You know that, don't you?" Warren smiled gently. "The last time we tried this, you mentally retreated and it took me a long time to assure you that I wouldn't force you."

 

"I remember, mon amour," Remy admitted. "Mais… I still feel dirty 'cause of what happened when I was a chile."

 

"You said it yourself, Rem. You were a child and the Antiquary didn't accept no." Remy cuddled his love closer. They lay facing each other, feeling hot and sticky from their lovemaking. Warren wrapped his legs and arms around Remy's body and studied his lover. "You feel ashamed because it felt good, don't you?"

 

"De Antiquary always told me dat my charm made him rape me. I know dat was a lie, mais… I shouldn' love de feel of y' inside me. It brought pain back den and I feel like betrayin' myself." Remy worried that this explanation wouldn't make sense to Warren, but his lover gave him a look filled with understanding.

 

"You've felt like damaged good for a long time, haven't you?" Warren licked the salty sweat from Remy's throat.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted, surprised that Warren understood. "He made me in to a whore. Didn' père tell y' dat I went to his room one night and…" His words became stuck in his throat.

 

"That you offered yourself to him?" Warren finished and noticed the sudden fear in Remy's eyes. "He also told me that you did that to test him because you were afraid he was like the Antiquary." The fact that they could discuss this so openly, reassured Warren that they'd be fine in the end. "You know that you're not a whore. You suffered terribly when you were a child and I love the man you've become. I know you can't leave the past behind, but we've got to work on your self-image, love."

 

Blissfully, Remy leaned in as Warren's fingers caressed his face. "Je t'aime," he whispered sincerely.

 

Warren smiled. "We'll deal with your past, your fears and your pain. Our love is true. Never doubt that, Rem." Warren tucked Remy's head beneath his chin and simply held his lover close.

 

 

Note; in this story, Remy and Corsair never met and Scott never mentioned Gambit to his father! 

 

Part 2

 

Warren snuggled deeper into the embrace and peeked at Remy's smiling face. They'd left Wolvie at the Palazzo to have dinner and visit the art exhibit. They'd even ended up buying two paintings from a contemporary artist and Warren had sent them home. Home was a luxurious villa in Florida, where he planned to take Remy after their honeymoon.

 

Remy tightened the embrace and rested his chin on Warren's shoulder. Whispering into his lover's ear, Remy said, "Tonight was perfect."

 

"Yeah, I thought so too," Warren replied smugly and covered Remy's cold hands with his. "Do you want to go flying tonight?" There was a full moon and the view would be stunning.

 

"Can we do dat? What if dey pick y' up on deir radar?" Remy kissed the top of Warren's head. He felt like living a dream and feared waking up. Life couldn't be this good for Remy LeBeau. Or was that Remy Worthington? He didn't even consider Remy Summers. Warren and he still had to decide on what to do with their last names now that they'd had their commitment ceremony.

 

"Don't worry about that. Should they pick us up, we'll deal with it then." Warren noticed Remy's thoughtful and distant expression. "Rem?" Had something upset his lover?

 

"I like Remy Worthington," Remy said without a trace of an accent.

 

Remy smiled. He'd heard Remy lose the accent and regain it moments later. He was probably in for a lot of surprises! "I like Warren LeBeau too."

 

Remy returned the smile. "What 'bout Summers?"

 

Both men shook their head after a moment's thought. "No," they blurted out simultaneously. "At least we agree on that!" Warren added happily.

 

Remy released a deep sigh. "Dis is heaven, ange," he whispered blissfully. "How long do y' plan on stayin' here?"

 

"The weekend. Then we'll move on to Athens." Warren fingered a lock of Remy's hair. "Did you hear from Jean-Luc?" They'd taken the laptop along.

 

"One message, oui. He wishes us a happy honeymoon. Père and Logan are heading for San Francisco."

 

They'd arrived at their Palazzo and Remy and Warren exited the gondola. "Don' want to go 'side yet," Remy whispered softly.

 

Warren waited until the gondola had left and then spread his wings. "Get behind me and hold on, love."

 

Remy clasped his arms around Warren's waist. A moment later they took to the sky. A thousand stars and a full moon guided their path and Remy wondered what he'd done to deserve a lover like Warren.

 

They flew in silence, neither man speaking their thoughts aloud. Remy loved being airborne and being this close to Warren. He was nestled safely between his lover's soft wings and his head rested on Warren's shoulder. "Don' ever want dis to stop," he admitted unexpectedly.

 

"I feel the same way, Rem," Warren smiled, something his lover couldn't see. "And once we're back at the Palazzo you'll fall asleep in my arms."

 

///

 

They made it back to the Palazzo one hour later and Warren landed carefully at the back of the building. Warren turned around in Remy's embrace, he noticed that Remy's arms were still tightly wrapped around him. "Rem?" In the dark, the gold on black eyes stared back at him.

 

"Just realizin' how happy I am," Remy said softly. "I don' want to t'ink 'bout what would have happened if y' hadn' come back for me after y' left N'Awlings." There were times that he still couldn't believe that Warren had returned to claim him. "Still remember findin' y' at my bed. I'd dreamed dat y' were back and to actually see y'… Ange…"

 

"I still feel bad for leaving you in the first place. You'd been injured because you were protecting me and…" As he was reminded of one his first mistakes, Warren looked up apologetically. He vividly remembered that one morning when he'd left to get some groceries without telling Remy. The Cajun had been asleep and it had seemed a sin to wake Remy. There had been an expression of absolute horror in Remy's eyes when they'd made eye contact after he'd returned to their cottage. The Cajun had believed that Warren had left him *again*. Warren had never forgiven himself for putting Remy through that fear.

 

Remy yawned fatigued. He'd been really tense, hoping that nothing would go wrong during the commitment ceremony and that nervousness was now taking its toll on the Cajun. "Sorry, ange. Don' want to fall 'sleep on y'."

 

"Come on, love. Let's get some rest." Warren pulled Remy with him and they quickly made their way to their suite. Hopefully the maid had carried out his instructions.

 

Remy followed Warren inside. One look at the couch told him that Wolvie hadn't moved since they'd left. The canine was still contentedly asleep on the sofa. Remy suspected that Wolvie would make up for his laziness tomorrow and it would be hard to control that bundle of energy once Wolvie had woken up.

 

A sudden flash of love, emanating from Warren caught Remy's attention and he turned to look at his lover. Warren stood in front of the bed, which was covered in red rose petals. The sweet fragrance almost made Remy dizzy. "Cher?"

 

"I want to sleep with you in a bed of roses," Warren whispered, feeling very romantic. Something about Remy always woke Warren's romantic feelings and spurted them on.

 

"Mon amour," Remy whispered shyly. He raised his right hand and pressed his fingers lightly against Warren's lips. "I don' deserve y'."

 

"Come on, let's take a bath first." They'd taken a quick shower before they'd left for dinner, but Warren now wanted to use the large bathtub in the bathroom.

 

Wondering if he should expect even more surprises, Remy hesitantly stepped into the bathroom. "Oh, cher. Y' don' have to do dis!" The bathtub was filled with warm water and white rose petals floated on the surface. Why was he this emotional? Remy felt like he could burst out in to tears any moment now.

 

"Shst, Rem," Warren whispered soothingly and began to undress Remy. "Let's take that bath and then we'll snuggle up in bed."

 

Remy read between the lines. This was about love, not lust. Warren wasn't trying to talk him into having sex like some of Remy's previous lovers had. No, Warren wanted him to enjoy the attention without having to worry about any sexual favors. "Ange…"

 

Hearing that one word made Warren smile. He preferred ange above all the other names, above cher, mon amour, Warren.

 

Remy allowed Warren to remove his clothes and Warren led his lover to the bathtub, telling Remy to slide into the warm water. "I'll join you in a sec."

 

Remy suddenly found himself emerged in rose scented water and wondered surprised where his clothes had gone. He was naked now, wasn't he? Shaking his head, Remy tried to clear his mind. When Warren joined him, Remy slid closer, wrapping his long legs around his lover from behind. It was an intimate moment, but Remy didn't shy back. "Let me wash y'r hair?" He loved the feel of spun gold between his fingertips.

 

"Sure." Warren rested his back against Remy's chest, enjoying the feel of those agile fingers washing his hair. His hands massaged Remy's calves. Warren loved it when Remy wrapped himself around him like this. "Rem?"

 

"Oui?" Remy rinsed Warren's hair and had to struggle to get to the conditioner because Warren's wings were in the way. But he gladly suffered a little discomfort to feel those soft feathers on his skin.

 

"I own a nice little place in Florida… Would you spend the rest of your life there with me?"

 

Remy smiled and pressed a kiss at the back of Warren's neck. "As long as we can be toget'her, oui."

 

"And our friends can visit." Warren cocked his head and looked over his shoulder at Remy. "Don't you want to learn more about Scott?"

 

Remy shrugged his shoulders and massaged the conditioner into Warren's locks. "I'm still gettin' used to de idea dat he's my brot'er."

 

"Want if Corsair shows up? Have you ever met him?" Warren turned around in the embrace and sat facing Remy. "Would you like to meet your… biological father?" He hesitated, not knowing what term Remy preferred. Jean-Luc would always be Remy's père and Corsair would never be able to replace the former patriarch.

 

"Non, I've never met him," Remy admitted and relished the caresses that Warren bestowed on him. "Would like to meet him, oui, mais… I'm not sure I want Corsair to know dat I'm his son."

 

"Why is that?" Warren grabbed the shampoo and planned on returning the favor. "Turn around, love." Warren waited patiently for Remy to make up his mind, whether to comply or refuse.

 

Hesitantly, Remy turned around and offered Warren his back. Now that he couldn't see what was going on, he started to feel a little nervous. "What's dere to be proud of for Corsair? He'd find out dat his son's a t'ief."

 

"Don't put yourself down like that, Rem. I don't like it. You're a great person."

 

"Y're biased, cher," Remy whispered, as Warren's hands worked their magic, massaging his scalp. Remy soaked up the attention he was getting and felt incredibly relaxed. The fact that Warren had mentioned that they'd go to sleep after the bath worked miracles.

 

"All done," Warren announced, pleased. "I should get some towels."

 

"Lemme," Remy offered and practically leaped out of the tub.

 

"Be careful, Rem," Warren warned, knowing how slippery a wet floor could be.

 

"Oui, cher… I know…" Remy retrieved a couple of fluffy towels and gestured Warren to get to his feet as well. He wrapped the soft towel around Warren's body and dried his lover's skin. "Why don' y' get into bed? I'll clean up here," he offered.

 

Warren briefly considered objecting, but saw Remy's desire to please in the gold on black eyes. "Don't take too long, love. I want to fall asleep holding you." Warren left the bathroom and removed the towel before slipping into bed naked. He'd warm the bed for his lover. As he lay there, Warren realized that he wanted to hold Remy really bad. He wanted to spoon up behind his lover and hold Remy through the night. Problem was that Remy couldn't always deal with feeling a body behind him in the dark. Maybe Remy'd feel better if Warren left a light on, or lit a candle?

 

Wolvie made his way out of the living area into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. Warren watched it with resigned amusement. The foot end of the bed was Wolvie's territory since that first night. Well, the canine always warmed their feet!

 

"Rem?" Warren listened closely to the sounds coming out of the bathroom. What was taking Remy this long?

 

Remy startled hearing Warren's voice. Quickly, he pulled the plug from the bathtub and dried his skin. For one moment he'd considered following up on Warren's advice to explore and to touch himself. Mais it won' work. I'm not 'fraid of touchin' myself in dat way. I can do dat. I only get nervous when it's Warren who wants to touch me *dere*.

 

Remy quickly cleaned up and joined his lover in the bedroom. He shot Warren a smile when he noticed that Wolvie had claimed part of their bed. The canine had grown attached to both men. Remy had realized that when he'd picked up on strong defensive feelings aimed at Warren. In the beginning Wolvie had only tolerated Warren's presence, but that had changed.

 

Looking at Warren, Remy's heart thumped loudly in his chest. Warren was lying on his right side and had pushed back the comforter, expecting Remy to lay down behind him. What did ange say? He wanted to fall 'sleep wit' me in his arms? He can only do dat when I'm in front of him, which means… Warren has to spoon up behind me. Remy hoped that waking up in that position wouldn't freak him out. The Antiquary had often sexually assaulted him when he'd been sleeping on his side. Mais I'll try… for ange.

 

Warren watched curiously as Remy walked to the other side of the bed, and then lay down facing away from him. Hesitantly, Remy pressed closer until they lay spooned against each other. Warren held his breath. Remy was showing him how much the Cajun trusted him. "Are you sure, Rem? I don't want to spook you."

 

"It's only a small step," Remy whispered nervously as Warren's groin made contact with his buttocks. "Mais I should be ready to take dis step."

 

Warren draped one leg over Remy's hip and pulled his lover close. As he placed tiny kisses on Remy's back, he felt how his lover began to relax. Warren pulled the comforter back up and tucked them in. "You feel so good in my arms, Rem. Thank you for trusting me." He gave in as Remy's hands grabbed his wrists and pulled them in front of Remy's chest. The Cajun wanted to be hugged tightly and Warren gladly obliged.

 

"Are you comfortable, love?" Warren thanked the heavens that he wasn't growing aroused. That would certainly make Remy uncomfortable and shatter the enchanted moment. 

 

"Just hold me and don' lemme go," Remy whispered softly. Warren's arms held him tight and he relished his lover's closeness. When the Antiquary had wrapped his arms around him, the old man had only wanted to keep him from fighting back. "I want to have sweet dreams tonight, cher," Remy added fatigued.

 

"I'll keep the nightmares away," Warren promised.

 

Slightly annoyed, Wolvie growled, telling the two men that it was time to go to sleep.

 

Warren felt Remy chuckle in his arms. "He wants us to shut up, Rem."

 

"Wolvie's gettin' an attitude," Remy sighed. He felt secure and safe in Warren's arms. "Have some sweet dreams too, ange," he mumbled, dozing off.

 

"You're my life, Remy," Warren whispered before following his lover into the land of dreams. "Don't ever stop loving me."

 

///

 

A strangled whimper woke Warren from his blissful sleep. It only took him a second to realize that Remy was having a nightmare. The Cajun was trying to wrestle free of the embrace and Warren immediately let go. Warren studied his whimpering lover and sighed relieved. It wasn't one of those earth-shattering nightmares, at least not yet. He knew what to do.

 

"Rem, listen to my voice. It's only a nightmare, love." Warren stayed at a distance as long as he didn't know what the nightmare was about. Another tormented whimper left Remy's lips. "Tell me, Rem, what's going on?" Warren took a deep breath and focused on his love for Remy, knowing that subconsciously his lover's empathy would pick up on it. "Rem? Come on, let me help."

 

"It's cold," Remy whispered, balancing on the edge of waking up. He pulled the comforter close to his body.

 

Warren sat up and shivered as the cold of the room hit his naked skin. "Wolvie, get off the bed!" Warren commanded and pulled up the satin sheets to wrap them around him.

 

Indignantly, Wolvie lay down on the floor, watching Remy with concern.

 

"Rem? I can make you feel warm again, but you'll have to let me get close to you." Warren cautiously crawled a little closer. "We're in Venice, Rem. We fell asleep after taking a bath, do you remember?" Suddenly, gold on black eyes opened. Warren's brow grew knitted, seeing the unshed tears in them. "Rem?"

 

"I was back on de ice, ange. It was so cold," Remy whispered and moved closer to Warren. "Make de cold go 'way?"

 

"Oh, you don't have to ask, love!" Warren exclaimed softly and opened his arms. Remy nearly knocked Warren off the bed when the Cajun flung himself into his lover's arms. Warren quickly wrapped them both up in the comforter. "Lay down again, love?" It surprised him that the nightmare hadn't been about the Antiquary. He'd kind of expected that after Remy had allowed him to spoon up behind him.

 

Warren gently touched Remy's chest, closely observing his lover, but Remy accepted the touch without pulling away from it. "Shst, it was only a nightmare, Rem. I've got you." Warren manoeuvred Remy onto his side, so they were facing each other. Remy snuggled up to him and rested his head against Warren's shoulder. "It's okay, Rem."

 

"It felt so real," Remy sobbed softly as he let go of his fear now that he was safe in Warren's arms. "Why can' dey leave me 'lone? Don' want to have dese nightmares!"

 

"Your subconscious is trying to deal with the trauma. You've got to give it time," Warren chided him softly. "You've already improved greatly, Rem. There were times when you couldn't stand me touching you after you'd had a nightmare and look at us now. You've got to be realistic. Dealing with the pain takes time."

 

Remy blinked watered eyes, but a smile flashed across his features as he glanced at Wolvie. The canine's head rested on the side of the bed and the wolf was obviously trying to find out if he could climb into its old warm space again. "C'mon, Wolvie," Remy encouraged the canine.

 

Warren stroked Remy's damp hair and realized that his lover was covered in cold sweat. "You want Wolvie to warm our feet again?" he asked, giving Remy the chance to compose himself.

 

"Oui." Remy waited until Wolvie had made himself comfortable at their feet and then he peeked at Warren. "Did I scare y'?"

 

"A little," Warren admitted. "I was scared you were going to have a panic attack."

 

"I didn' dream 'bout… *him*," Remy whispered. If the dream had been about the Antiquary he might have had that panic attack. "Dose nightmares are growin' less."

 

"That's good." Soothingly, Warren rubbed Remy's back with long strokes. "Do you think that you can go back to sleep now?" If not, he'd stay awake with Remy.

 

"Ange? Findin' y' here when I wake up… Y' don' know what dat means to me," Remy mumbled barely audible. "Ruin y'r sleep all de time and yet y' stay."

 

"Oh, Rem," Warren whispered, touched. "You've been there for me too when I had a nightmare about Apocalypse." Warren shivered. "Although… it's been weeks since I had one… I stopped having them after… after you discovered your healing powers."

 

"Wish I could work dat power on myself in dat way." Feeling tired and melancholy, Remy rubbed his cheek against Warren's chest. "How did I survive de cold?"

 

"I don't know, love." Warren doubted they'd ever find out. He'd contacted the group of scientists that had found Remy's nearly frozen body, but they'd been unable to supply him with additional information. "Go back to sleep, love? I'll be here when you wake up again, Rem. Wish I had some mutant power that would keep your nightmares at bay."

 

"Just be here when I wake up," Remy whispered against Warren's chest and surrendered to his lover's warmth, that slowly lured him back into sleep.

 

"Rem, I'm so sorry," Warren whispered, but Remy never heard those words as he'd fallen asleep again. "I should have gone back to Antarctica to search for you. I'm so sorry I walked out on you." His mistake would haunt him forever.

 

///

 

His nose itched and Remy sleepily wondered what was causing it. If he wouldn't know any better, he'd contribute it to the fresh smell of coffee, croissants and marmalade. But why would anyone fix him breakfast in the middle of the night? He'd just gone to sleep, hadn't he?

 

"Hey, wake up, sleeping beauty," Warren whispered teasingly. "And move over!"

 

Remy opened one sleepy eye and realized that Warren stood next to the bed with a large tray. "Huh?" Remy whispered confused, but he moved over to the side of the bed, creating space for Warren to lie down. As he opened both eyes, he saw bright sunlight fall into the room. "Ain' it supposed to be night?"

 

"It's almost noon, Rem and I brought you breakfast." Warren sat upright and placed the tray in between them. "Coffee?"

 

"Oui," Remy replied softly. "Why ain't dere a clock in dis room?" he wondered surprised.

 

"Because time doesn't matter on our honeymoon." Warren put a generous amount of marmalade on a croissant, tore off a small piece and offered it to his lover. "Eat something." Warren had already poured their coffee, black and hot.

 

Still a little dazed, Remy elbowed himself in to a sitting position. "Why didn' y' wake me earlier?" He usually never slept this late!

 

"You didn't sleep that great," Warren explained. "And I can't wake you when you look like that. You'd wrapped yourself all around me. It took me ten minutes to get out of bed unnoticed!" Warren offered his lover another piece of croissant and followed Remy's questioning look. "Wolvie's outside. There's a garden behind the Palazzo and he's stretching his legs. Yes, I already fed him."

 

"'bout last night," Remy started hesitantly, "sorry I woke y'."

 

"Hey, I love being there for you. Don't feel guilty about it." Warren handed Remy the coffee and the Cajun sipped from it.

 

"C'est bien," Remy commented as the black liquid flowed down his throat. He never felt awake until he'd had some black coffee. "What are y'r plans for today?"

 

"What would *you* like to do?" Warren returned the question.

 

"Don' know… As long as y're close, I'm fine."

 

"What about some sightseeing? We can rent a gondola and cuddle all day long," Warren suggested, a little disconcerted by Remy's lack of energy. Maybe that nightmare still bothered Remy? "Don't I get a good morning kiss any longer?" he whispered teasingly.

 

That brought a smile to Remy's lips. "Y'll always get a good mornin' kiss!" Remy leaned in closer and claimed Warren's lips. "Je t'aime, cher."

 

"That's better!" Warren returned the kiss and deepened it. He'd woken up with a raging morning hard-on and had taken care of it himself while fantasizing about Remy.

 

Remy released Warren's lips and gave his lover an odd look. He felt something in Warren's thoughts that slightly upset him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Is somet'in' wrong, ange?"

 

"Nothing," Warren assured Remy. "Let's finish breakfast and get moving before Wolvie's back."

 

Remy smiled. "Oui, Wolvie will drag us into de garden to play wit' him all day long."

 

"Wolvie needs an attitude adjustment!" Warren exclaimed and watched Remy eat another croissant. Thankfully, his lover's appetite was back.

 

///

 

"I had a great time today," Warren whispered contentedly and nodded his head. The gondola was taking them back to the Palazzo and Warren felt immensely thankful for having Remy as his life mate. They'd explored the city today and Warren hadn't been surprised to learn that Remy knew a great deal about Venice's history and art. "Tomorrow we'll leave for Athens," he informed Remy.

 

"How long do y' plan on stayin' on dis honeymoon?" Remy asked amused. The sun was hiding behind some clouds and he suspected it'd start to rain soon.

 

"For the rest of our lives hopefully," Warren replied blissfully as Remy's fingers tangled in his hair. "And yes, I added Paris to our traveling plans!"

 

Remy grew quiet, lost in thought. "Ange, do y' ever wonder what our lives would be like if we hadn' met in N'awlings?"

 

"No, I refuse to think about that," Warren said steadfast and pulled Remy's hand to his lips so he could kiss his lover's fingertips.

 

"Y're a romantic." Remy quivered as Warren's tongue caressed his fingertips. "Wolvie will be mad at us."

 

"Let him. He needs to learn that we're in charge." Warren stretched lazily as the Palazzo appeared in front of them. "They should have dinner ready for us."

 

Remy whispered a 'merci' to the gondolier and followed Warren into the Palazzo. He noticed that something was wrong when he picked up an odd nervousness from the receptionist. "Cher? Somet'in' happened."

 

Warren took the warning seriously. Addressing the receptionist, he asked, "Do you have any messages for me?"

 

The man replied in perfect English. "Signore Worthington, you've received a letter, marked urgent." He handed Warren the piece of paper.

 

Remy moved closer to his lover, as Warren opened the envelope. He read out loud, wanting Remy to know what was going on. "It's from our family lawyer."

 

# Mister Worthington,

 

It saddens me to inform you that your brother, Samuel Worthington, died yesterday in a car accident. His son, Jason, was only mildly injured. As you're Jason's only living relative, the judge will probably award you custody of Jason Worthington. Please contact me as soon as possible.

 

Yours truly,

 

Vincent Dagarmo. #

 

"Ange?" Remy kept his shields wide open, trying to detect any shift in emotions emanating from his lover. "I'm so sorry." Remy cursed himself mentally. He didn't even know if Warren and his brother had been close!

 

"It's okay, Rem. I didn't know my brother that well. Sam never wanted to have anything to do with me." Warren closed the letter and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Jason should be about 15, I think." He hadn't even dealt with his brother's death yet and now he had to face the possibility of raising his nephew. "I've only seen Jason once, when he was 6."

 

"Is dere anyt'in' I can do?" Remy offered and waited for Warren to take the initiative. Remy didn't want to impose himself. Warren radiated a small amount of shock, but seemed calm and in control. But sooner or later Remy suspected there would be an emotional outburst.

 

"No, Rem. We need to wait and find out the judge's decision. Maybe the kid knows a family he's close to and he'll want to live with them, instead of with me." Warren suddenly realized something. "Jason and I are the only Worthingtons right now."

 

"Y' don' have any ot'er relatives?" Remy inquired concerned as they walked towards their suite.

 

"No, we're the last."

 

"Do y' want to go home? I'd understand, cher." Remy didn't really know what to make of Warren's reaction and emotions. Maybe Warren was trying to suppress them? "Don' shut me out, cher?" he asked pleadingly.

 

"I need a little time," Warren replied. "I'll never shut you out, love. Don't worry about that."

 

They'd arrived at their room and went inside. Wolvie cornered them at once.

 

"Why don' y' lie down, cher? I'll take care of Wolvie," Remy offered. It'd give Warren a chance to organize his thoughts.

 

"Thanks, Rem." Warren placed a single kiss on Remy's brow. "I appreciate it, but don't stay away too long?"

 

Remy signaled Wolvie to follow him outside and as he closed the door, Remy cast one last glance at Warren, who looked worried and suddenly tired. Yet, his empathy assured Remy that Warren wasn't in any distress. Warren seemed stunned, maybe even a little shocked at the news, but there was no emotional pain. "Will be back soon," Remy promised as he closed the door behind him.

 

Warren released a deep sigh as he dropped on to the bed. He felt sorry for Jason, but hoped that the judge wouldn't give him custody of the kid. He was still trying to help Remy deal with his past… no way they could raise a 15 year old!

 

 

Part 3

 

Westchester

 

Feeling melancholy, Scott stared out over the lake. He'd left the mansion to have some privacy. Although he appreciated Jean and Charles' concern, he wanted to think about Remy and Corsair without being monitored. He had to make some personal decisions and he didn't want to do that while telepaths could peek into his mind.

 

Right now, he didn't have the means to contact his father. He'd have to wait until Corsair decided to visit Earth. How will he react? He always thought that his youngest son had died and now I have to tell him that Remy's alive. I still can't believe that Sinister staged Remy's death!

 

Scott also blamed himself for not finding out the truth earlier. Maybe Remy's red on black eyes should have tipped him off. No, I couldn't know. But realizing that didn't make him feel better.

 

Scott had been sitting on his heels and now rose to his feet. Carefully, he stretched his cramped muscles. How long had he been sitting out here?

 

A smile formed on his face as he remembered the commitment ceremony. The love in Warren's eyes had been tangible and Remy's gold on black orbs had mirrored Warren's feelings. If someone had told me that Remy and Warren would end up being lovers, I'd have declared them mad. And yet, they compliment each other.

 

Looking over his shoulder, Scott stared at the mansion. The boathouse was empty again. Rogue had stayed away after Remy hadn't reacted to her touch and Joseph had moved back into the mansion. There was an odd atmosphere in the house. The only bright spot was Bobby. Ever since Storm had accepted that Bobby and Nicholas were lovers, Drake had proudly shown Nick off.

 

But I still don't have the answers to my questions. When will Corsair return to Earth? Will Remy ever meet our father? I still can't believe that I've got another brother. All this time we fought side by side and I didn't know!

 

But if he was having trouble accepting this revelation, how was Remy dealing with it? Thankfully, Remy wasn't alone. Warren would support Remy. Scott shivered briefly, feeling immensely grateful that Warren was at Remy's side and not Rogue. Scott and Warren were good friends, they could relate. He found it a lot harder to relate to Rogue. That woman was a mystery to him.

 

A sudden cold crept through his coat and Scott looked up questioningly. It was a beautiful, warm day, so where was the cold coming from?

 

"I'm gonna get you!"

 

Scott smiled as Bobby's warning cut through the air. Drake had frozen the ground and it was snowing heavily. A moment later, Scott discovered that the snow clouds followed Nicholas wherever the young man went. Nick was already covered with a layer of snow, but hadn't surrendered yet.

 

Amused, Scott watched Bobby chase Nicholas, who had picked up some snow and now threw a snowball at Drake.

 

"That doesn't scare me!" Bobby called out and ran after Nicholas. He wasn't in his ice form and didn't pay much attention to the ice beneath his feet. "Here I come," Bobby announced and moved in closer on Nick. But Bobby hadn't counted on the ice being slippery beneath him.

 

Nicholas burst out laughing when Bobby went down on his butt. "The great Iceman!" he roared mischievously. "Can't deal with the ice, Bobby?"

 

Bobby wanted to object, ice up and show his lover that he could perfectly well deal with ice, but seeing Nicholas this merry Bobby laughed warmly. "I guess I outsmarted myself."

 

"Did you hurt yourself, darling?" Nicolas inquired worried, as he approached his lover. "Didn't your butt cushion the blow?" A wicked grin flashed across his features.

 

Bobby staggered to his feet, removing the snow and ice from his coat. "It was a hard landing!" Bobby exclaimed with feigned annoyance.

 

"Want me to kiss it better?" Nick gave Bobby a wink.

 

"Now there's an invitation I can't refuse!" Bobby whispered seductively and claimed his lover's right hand. "You can kiss it better once we're in my bed."

 

Scott shook his head. Bobby's hormones apparently raged and Nicholas was only encouraging Drake! "You can talk dirty in bed, Drake!" Scott called out and thoroughly enjoyed the startled shriek that fled Bobby's lips.

 

"Scott! I didn't know that you were here too!" Bobby blushed slightly. "I didn't know we had an audience."

 

"It's okay." Scott smiled reassuringly. Bobby still felt a little insecure, uncertain how his team-members would react to such obvious flirting. Seeing Bobby and Nicholas together was very new to all of them. I might have reacted differently if I hadn't seen how well Remy and Warren worked out. Scott had never suspected some of his team-mates were gay or bi.

 

"I think I'm going back inside," Scott announced. He'd barely had any time to think about Remy and Corsair. Maybe it was best to face that challenge when Corsair showed up on his doorstep. He shouldn't worry about something he couldn't control. Scott waved good-bye and headed for the mansion.

 

Bobby exchanged a look with Nicholas, who didn't seem subdued or worried at all. Apparently, Scott's unexpected appearance hadn't upset Nick. "Wanna go back too?"

 

"Sure, darling." Nicholas locked his amused eyes with Bobby's. "I still have to kiss it better," he announced wickedly. He relished seeing the blush on Bobby's face. Nicholas understood that Bobby tried to hide his insecurity, as Bobby had told him that this was his first gay relationship and that he was afraid to screw things up. Nicholas however, had had boyfriends before. "Come on, darling, let's get moving," Nicholas said eventually. "Although I love the snow I feel terribly cold."

 

"Want me to warm you?" Bobby offered, trying hard not to stumble over his words.

 

"Oh yeah." Nicholas pulled Bobby along. "Let's go and get warm!"

 

///

 

Venice

 

Remy softly closed the bedroom door behind him when he made it back from walking Wolvie. He'd left the canine in the living area, after explaining to the wolf that he couldn't sleep in the bed tonight. Warren probably wanted some privacy and having a wolf snore at your feet could be annoying.

 

He'd stayed out longer than he'd planned, but Wolvie had had so much pent up energy that they'd played for one whole hour. Now that he sneaked over to the bed, Remy wondered how Warren was doing. Warren had switched off the lights and only a few moonbeams illuminated the room.

 

Focusing his empathy, Remy tried to get an impression of Warren's feelings. He felt like invading Warren's privacy, but his concern urged him on. Sadness, regret and nervous anticipation flowed in to his mind. Warren wasn't in any emotional turmoil yet, but heading that way. "Cher?" Remy whispered softly, knowing Warren was awake.

 

"Come to bed, Rem," Warren whispered softly. He hadn't realized how lost in thought he'd been until he'd heard Remy's voice.

 

"Y' want me close? Understand if y' want some time 'lone," Remy offered.

 

"Please get in to bed and hold me, love. I just want to go to sleep." Warren peeked at Remy, and noticed his lover's concerned expression. "But bear in mind that I'm not the greatest company right now."

 

"C'est bien, ange. I understand," Remy assured him and stripped quickly. "Where do y' want me?" He now stood naked beside the bed and Warren lay on his right side, facing away from him.

 

"Get behind me, love, and hold me."

 

Remy didn't need further encouragement and slipped into bed. He reached out and gathered his lover in his arms. Only now did Remy realize that Warren was still fully clothed. However, his lover felt cold and Remy quickly pulled up the comforter. "Wanna talk 'bout it, ange?"

 

Warren first wanted to decline, but then realized that talking always seemed to help Remy to better deal with his fears. And it isn't fair to keep Remy in the dark. Suddenly, Warren realized how wonderful it felt to be wrapped up in Remy's arms. The Cajun's head rested on Warren's shoulder and Remy's breath softly caressed the skin of his face. It felt so good to have a strong shoulder to lean on.

 

Remy waited patiently and didn't push Warren in to talking. He gently kissed the back of his lover's neck and moved until he rested comfortably between the soft wings.

 

"Lavender," Warren mumbled softly.

 

"Cher?" Confused, Remy tried to peek at Warren's face.

 

"You smell of lavender. I don't think you smelled like this before."

 

"Want to comfort y', ange." Remy shivered briefly. Tante had told him that she'd smelled lavender when he'd tried to comfort her after her nephew's death. "Are y' cataloguin' dese fragrances now?"

 

"They tell me a lot about how you really feel, Rem. You've got the tendency to keep everything inside."

 

"Like y' do, cher?"

 

"No, I want to tell you about Samuel, Sam, but it isn't easy." Warren pressed closer against Remy's pliant body. He loved feeling Remy close behind him. "When Sam and I were small kids we got along just fine."

 

Remy licked his lips, wondering how to phrase his questions. His empathy told him that Warren wanted to talk about this, but he had to handle this carefully. After pressing another kiss on Warren's soft skin, Remy asked, "Was he y'r younger or older brot'er?"

 

"Sam's 9 years older… He was my big brother."

 

"What went wrong?" Remy tightened the embrace and felt Warren relax in his arms. It was good to know that Warren also trusted him with his secrets.

 

"I got wings," Warren said in a bitter tone. "When Sam realized that I was a mutant he cut off all contact."

 

"I'm sorry, cher," Remy whispered sincerely.

 

"I'd hoped that me being a mutant wouldn't matter to Sam because we were brothers, but… I was wrong."

 

"Y' don' expect family to react like dat," Remy agreed and kissed Warren's locks. "What 'bout y'r dad?" He suddenly realized how little he knew about his lover's past.

 

"Dad wasn't thrilled, but didn't treat me any different. Dad and I were never close. He was always away on business trips and after mom died he got really distant. But he didn't disown me or banish me from the family home."

 

"So Sam left?"

 

"Yes," Warren confirmed. "After I got my degree and returned home, Sam refused to stay any longer. He didn't want to live under the same roof with a mutant." Warren tried to hide his pain, but knew that the attempt was futile. Remy was an empath and surely felt his turmoil.

 

"And when y'r fat'er died?" Remy asked, concerned.

 

"Dad had named us his heirs and we had to work together to keep the family fortune safe. But Sam limited the contact to business meetings only."

 

Remy sighed deeply. He sensed how much this had hurt his lover.

 

"And then I got this blue skin, courtesy of… Apocalypse. Can you imagine Sam's reaction when he saw me?" Warren's bitterness now was obvious and he trembled in Remy's arms. "I saw the loathing in his eyes."

 

"I'm so sorry, cher," Remy repeated, unsure what to say. Usually Warren listened to Remy's admissions and not the other way around. Remy remembered holding and comforting Warren only once before. Warren had suffered from a nightmare featuring Apocalypse and later that night, Warren had told Remy about walking out on him during the trial. Their role reversal was disconcerting, but it felt good to be able to be there for Warren. "Now tell me what else's bot'erin' y'." Warren was keeping back.

 

"Sam's son, Jason."

 

"Why worry 'bout him?" Remy stroked Warren's shoulders, gently massaging tense muscles.

 

"I don't know a damn thing about raising a 15 year old!" Warren suddenly exploded. "I'm sure Sam told Jason about his mutant uncle. The kid and I only met once and at that time Jason kept his distance."

 

"Cher? Lemme tell y' somet'in'," Remy said gently and waited until he had Warren's undivided attention. "Jean-Luc Lebeau didn' know how to raise a mutant and he did a great job… I t'ink."

 

"Oh, Rem!" Warren turned in Remy's embrace until they were face to face. Warren wrapped Remy's arms around his body again and stared into the gold on black eyes. "I was so feeling sorry for myself that…"

 

"What I'm tryin' to say, cher, is dat y'd make a great père too." Remy noticed the stunned look on Warren's face. "Y' care. Only dat matters."

 

"But I'm sure Sam taught Jason to dislike his mutant uncle." Warren looked at Remy apologetically. "And you're still healing. You don't need this."

 

"Cher," Remy whispered and pressed a gentle kiss on Warren's brow. "I was a mess when père took me in. Jean-Luc didn' know how to handle me, mais he tried and tried hard. I didn' trust him, tried to run 'way 'cause I was 'fraid he'd hurt me like de Antiquary had. He didn' tell y' I fought him at times?" Remy waited for Warren's nod and then continued. "I yelled at him to leave me 'lone. I even scratched his skin open when he tried to bat'e me dat first time. Didn' want to lose my clot'es, dat made me feel vulnerable. Mais Jean-Luc knew dat I needed him and he didn' give up."

 

"You can't compare yourself to Jason, Rem. Jason's a spoiled brat. Sam always gave Jason what he wanted, even sent Jason to the most expensive boarding schools."

 

"Sounds to me like dat chile got a lot of material t'ings, mais little amour, cher," Remy pointed out to Warren. "Sounds like y'r brot'er tried to buy Jason's affection." Remy suddenly wondered about something. "What 'bout Jason's mère?"

 

"She died in childbirth. Jason never knew Maggy." Warren released a deep sigh. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, Rem."

 

"Ignorin' it won' make it go 'way," Remy said softly and smiled.

 

"Crazy Cajun," Warren whispered affectionately. "I told you that once, didn't I?"

 

"I 'ways pay attention." Remy's smile brightened. "Look, ange, we'll deal wit' dis toget'er, non? Y' don' have to do dis 'lone."

 

Warren now shook his head. "Throwing my own words back at me, huh?"

 

"Wanna go to sleep or…?" Remy wasn't sure what to do next. When one of his former lovers had been upset, he'd let them use his body to distract them, but he couldn't and wouldn't do that now.

 

"I'm not in the mood for hanky panky," Warren replied, obviously pleased that Remy understood that having sex wouldn't solve anything. "Let's go to sleep? I've got this feeling tomorrow might be an exhausting day."

 

"Y' should lose de clot'es first," Remy reminded him.

 

"Yeah, I guess you're right about that." Reluctantly, Warren got out of bed to strip. "Keep my spot warm," he asked Remy.

 

"Mais of course," Remy whispered and watched Warren take off his clothes. Warren needed a little distraction as his lover was still brooding and Remy quipped, . "Did I ever tell y' how well I can see in de dark?"

 

Warren released a cry of feigned surprise. He only knew too well, but was more than willing to play the game. "You're peeking." 

 

"Cher," Remy said amused. "Y've got not'in' dat I haven' seen 'fore!" But his amusement quickly changed into confusion when he realized that his cock was waking up. Merde! I can' want dis now! Warren just learned dat he lost his brot'er and I… I can' want dis now! But his body had different ideas and he was growing aroused quickly. Embarrassed, Remy averted his eyes.

 

Warren noticed the sudden change in his lover's eyes. Also, the unexpected fragrance of lilies alerted him that something had happened. He quickly slipped between the covers and lay down facing Remy. Why was his lover blushing and averting his eyes? Then he noticed another fragrance floating through the room, roses. Remy's aroused! Warren realized, surprised. "Hey, talk to me, love."

 

"Sorry, cher, don' want dis." Remy shrugged his shoulder apologetically, as he tried to fight his arousal down.

 

Very carefully, Warren slid one hand beneath the covers. "Rem?" His probing fingers only encountered warm skin and he remembered that Remy had gone to bed naked. "Is this for me?" Warren smiled reassuringly as his fingertips brushed Remy's erection. It didn't happen too often that Remy spontaneously wanted to make love.

 

"Sorry, cher," Remy whispered. "Dis ain' de right time."

 

Warren silenced his lover. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned it's always the right time." He wanted to take away the emotional agony that haunted the gold on black eyes. "Can I play with it?" he quipped, hoping to relax his lover. Only moments ago he'd told Remy that he wasn't interested in any hanky panky, but then he'd been afraid that Remy would offer himself for the wrong reasons. But this was different. This was pure. This had nothing to do with manipulation, but everything with true love and attraction.

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "Play wit' it?"

 

"What's wrong?" Warren slowly stroked his lover's erection beneath the covers, just intending the caress as a prelude. He wanted to take his time.

 

Remy struggled to find the right words. "Shouldn' react like dis. Y' just lost y'r brot'er and I lie here wit' a hard-on."

 

"Rem?" Warren rubbed his thumb across the tip of Remy's cock and the Cajun quavered at the caress. "It means a lot to me that you didn't try to distract me with sex earlier."

 

"It did cross my mind," Remy admitted and helplessly arched his back.

 

"But you didn't act on it. Rem? Let me do this for you?" Warren watched his lover's beautiful face and kissed Remy's lips. "You want this and so do I."

 

"Mais y'…"

 

Warren felt Remy's probing fingers. "I'm not hard… yet, that's true, but I'd love to give you this, Rem."

 

Confused, Remy sought out Warren's eyes. His lover was still massaging his hard cock and pre-ejaculate was making his erection slippery. Warren's caress felt even better now. "Don' know how to explain dis," Remy said hesitantly.

 

"Try," Warren whispered and pressed tiny kisses all over Remy's face. "Tell me."

 

"When I had a lover," Remy started, uncomfortably, "dey took what dey wanted. I…" The revelation came unexpected. "I made it easy for dem to use me, non?"

 

Warren nodded his head. "I think so," he whispered and pushed down the comforter so he had access to Remy's bare chest. "I never knew I could have a thing for a man's nipples," he admitted and ran his tongue across Remy's left nipple. "Go on," he said eventually.

 

"Dey never took de time to make me feel good like y' do," Remy panted. "I just offered myself to dem. I never realized…" Remy's voice trailed off, as Warren closed his lips over his left nipple, nibbling gently. "Cher… I'm gonna come…"

 

"That's the idea, love," Warren quipped. "I want you to come." Warren moved down Remy's body until he met Remy's weeping erection. "It makes me feel so good when I make you come." He knew how much Remy had suffered in the past and it made him feel special that the Cajun trusted him not to hurt him. "I think I'm going to try that tongue thing."

 

"Tongue t'in'?" Confused, Remy looked down at his lover. Warren placed Remy's hands on his shoulders and the Cajun caressed his lover's skin. "What are y' gonna do?" He had to know what to expect.

 

"Can I touch you… there?" Warren gently rubbed his thumb over his lover's entrance.

 

Remy shivered. "Cher…"

 

Warren pumped his lover's cock slowly but hard, and the caress drew a whimper from Remy's lips. "Yes or no?"

 

"Oui," Remy whispered, helplessly. He was too close to orgasm to call Warren back now. Warren was the first lover who'd ever focused so entirely on Remy's needs that it made the Cajun nervous. Warren was so intend to give him pleasure that Remy wondered why Warren was so driven to make him come without wanting any sexual favors in return.

 

"Thanks, Rem… thanks for trusting me." Warren got to his feet and gently positioned Remy on the right side of the bed. Still lying on his back, Remy's long legs dangled off the bed. Warren kneeled on the floor and placed Remy's legs over his shoulders. That way, he had perfect access to those gorgeous round mounts. "Can I eat you?" Warren noticed the shudder that ran through his lover's body and returned to stroking Remy's hard cock.

 

"Cher, y' don' have to do dis." Remy felt vulnerable and helpless. Never before had he been the center of his lover's complete attention. Usually, it was the other way around.

 

"But I want to," Warren said in a pouting tone. "Please?"

 

Remy released a moan. "Oui, cher." He knew he had to take this step if he truly wanted to overcome his demons. If it hadn't been for Warren's talented fingers, his erection would have faded because of his nervousness. "Cher!" Remy groaned the word when something wet and slippery slithered down his cleft. A soft throbbing started in his cock and Remy buried his fingers in the satin sheets.

 

Warren smiled. "I guess you like that," Warren whispered mischievously. He'd always thought that doing this would gross him out, but seeing Remy squirm and whimper only motivated to try harder. His tongue connected with warm flesh and slithered inside. Remy jerked and Warren used one hand to steady him. "Easy now," Warren whispered. After first removing his tongue, he thrust it inside again.

 

"Cher!" Remy's tone was frantic now and he bucked hard.

 

Warren ignored the outcry and concentrated on driving Remy insane, using his tongue to explore his lover's hidden secrets. Remy's balls trembled beneath his touch and Warren realized that his lover was close. He pulled back and Remy whimpered at the loss. "Come for me, Rem," he whispered and closed his lips over his lover's cock. At the same time he inserted one finger in to the wet passage.

 

"Mon Dieu!" Remy arched his hips, thrust into Warren's hot mouth and involuntarily he pushed down on to his lover's finger. He forgot to breathe when Warren's fingertip found his prostate. "Cher… please… so close… wanna come… please… Warren…"

 

Warren listened to Remy's raving and wondered if his lover had ever given himself so completely during their lovemaking. He carefully added another digit and scissored his fingers, making sure he regularly brushed Remy's prostate. Remy was incredibly relaxed and Warren looked up to stare into his lover's dilated pupils.

 

Remy lost control when a second finger opened him up. Warren sucking him hard drove him over the edge and his cock released his come in short, jerky spurts.

 

Swallowing everything Remy had to offer, Warren didn't remove his fingers yet, but made sure his fingertips no longer made any contact with Remy's prostate. Spasms coursed through his lover's body and Warren licked Remy's cock clean, before letting the now sated organ slip from his mouth.

 

Remy only slowly came down from the adrenaline rush and it took him a moment to regulate his breathing. "Cher?" he looked down at his lover with tears in his eyes.

 

"Two, Rem. You took two fingers. They're still inside you." Warren moved them slightly and watched his lover's reaction. "Tell me how it feels, love?"

 

"It feels… so good," Remy sobbed softly as unshed tears fled his eyes. "Feels so good…"

 

Warren nodded his head. "That's the way it's supposed to feel, Rem." Slowly, he pulled back and exited Remy's body. "Sore?"

 

"Non, don' t'ink so." Remy felt terribly relaxed. "What 'bout y', cher?" He'd completely neglected Warren's needs and felt guilty about that.

 

Warren grinned a little. "I came with you, love."

 

"Cher?" Remy didn't understand. He hadn't even touched Warren!

 

"Making you come, made me come," Warren quipped and smirked. "We're a mess. I should clean us up, love." His own orgasm had taken him by surprise. Yes, he'd grown hard when he'd made Remy come, but usually he needed more direct stimulation to reach orgasm. It had been quite an interesting ride!

 

"Y've got a drop of come on y'r chin, cher…" Remy felt shy all of a sudden. He couldn't remember any of his lovers coming because they'd focused on him.

 

"Have you ever tasted yourself, Rem?" Warren collected the droplet onto his index finger and then brought it to Remy's lips. Moving in closer, he claimed his lover's lips possessively.

 

Remy moaned into Warren's mouth, as he tasted himself. "Merci, cher…" he whispered sincerely. "No one has ever been dis gentle wit' me."

 

Warren sensed the pain behind those words and nodded his head. "Things have changed, love. Now stay here." Warren slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He returned with a wet washcloth and a towel. He'd already cleaned himself up in the bathroom, and as he sat down on the side of the bed, he took in his lover's appearance. "I smell candy… sugar and honey," he said teasingly as he cleaned Remy up. "I love that smell."

 

Remy allowed the clean up, but then opened his arms and pulled Warren close. "Please cher, want y' close." After a moment's hesitation, Remy pulled Warren on top of his body. Remy wiggled beneath Warren and spread his legs to accommodate his lover.

 

Surprised that Remy wanted him to cover his body, Warren accepted the invitation and settled down between Remy's thighs. "I love you, Rem." He firmly wrapped Remy's legs around his waist and rested his elbows on either side of Remy's face so he could look at his lover. He loved to rest between Remy's thighs and Warren's cock stirred a little, interested in this development.

 

Remy sensed the growing arousal and swallowed hard. Being on the bottom like this made him feel uncomfortable, but he wanted Warren to top in the future. It was too damn confusing. "Can we go to sleep, cher?"

 

Warren understood the hint. "Sure, love." Remy wasn't ready to take another step. "Am I not squashing you?" Warren loved to feel Remy beneath him, but realized it might trigger flashbacks.

 

"Dis is fine," Remy whispered, overcoming his fears. Warren wouldn't force him. The Antiquary had done that, but Warren would never do that. "I'm tired, ange." Tomorrow would be another long day, especially if they had to return home unexpectedly.

 

"You smell so good," Warren whispered as he rested his head on Remy's shoulder. Remy wrapped his arms around him and Warren finally relaxed. "You were amazing, love," he mumbled, drifting off in to sleep.

 

"Non, y' were 'mazin'," Remy corrected a sleeping Warren. "Merci for bein' patient and showin' me true love." His body tingled with the after effects of intense pleasure and it didn't take Remy long to doze off himself.

 

 

Note //…// depicts thought.

 

Part 4

 

Remy stirred in his sleep. He'd been peacefully dreaming of flying over Venice's rooftops in Warren's arms, but something had upset his dreams. Peeking open one eye, Remy realized that Warren was the source of the disturbance. Reaching out empathically, Remy probed Warren's feelings.

 

His lover was in obvious emotional turmoil and Remy wondered whether to tighten his embrace or let Warren go. He'd fallen asleep with Warren in his arms, spooned behind his lover. "Cher? What's wrong?" he whispered, hoping to wake his lover, but Warren was deeply entangled in his nightmare.

 

At times like these Remy wished he were a telepath as well. Although he sensed Warren's distress, he had no idea how to reach him. He knew what Warren felt, but couldn't access the thoughts or pictures that were upsetting Warren. Remy didn't know how to ease his lover's pain.

 

"Cher? Ange?" Speaking a little louder this time, Remy grew concerned. Warren wasn't reacting to his voice. Warren struggled in the embrace and Remy immediately released him. Sitting upright, Remy freed Warren's flapping wings. Warren trashed on the bed and Remy's face contorted. "Don' know what to do, ange," he whispered upset.

 

Acting on instinct, he reached out with one hand and placed it on Warren's shoulder. To Remy's surprise, Warren allowed it. "Please, cher…" Remy was growing worried and even a little frightened. Warren radiated pain and terror and the emotions flowed into Remy's mind now that the Cajun had opened his shields.

 

"Warren?" Remy tried one last time and closed his eyes, concentrating on sending his lover soothing emotions. "Cher, je t'aime. Please come back to me." He didn't know where Warren's mind had traveled in his sleep, but his lover was surrounded by darkness. He had to try.

 

///

 

Warren stared into Apocalypse's face and tried to ignore the filthy laughter that escaped the mutant's lips. Metal wings were attached to his back and he shivered at the malice that Apocalypse radiated. Then another face took shape, pushing away Apocalypse's visage. Cameron Hodge's face appeared instead and Warren felt a sting of betrayal. //Get out of my mind!//

 

Subconsciously, Warren knew that he was having a nightmare, but he had no means to stop the hellish scenario. Suddenly, he found himself in a hospital room and the doctor in charge inserted a needle beneath his skin. //Oh God, not again!//

 

He'd been here before. Had woken up from his worst nightmare in this room. His wings had been amputated because of Cameron Hodge's scheming. He'd felt more dead than alive when he'd woken up, only to find his wings gone. //I don't want to be here!// Instinctively, Warren reached out. //REMY!//

 

///

 

"Ange!" Remy felt his lover's outcry for help and quickly covered the distance between them. Right now it didn't matter if Warren wanted the physical contact or not, fact was that Remy needed to touch Warren to strengthen the empathic link. Carefully, Remy folded his arms around Warren and pulled his lover in to a sitting position. He had to avoid one of Warren's wings, as his lover was moving about wildly. "I'm here, cher."

 

But his words didn't seem to reach Warren, and Remy took a deep breath before pushing through Warren's shields. //Le professeur trained dem bien!// Warren, like all X-Men, had considerable shields to keep attackers from acquiring secret information by invading his mind.

 

Finally inside Warren's mind, Remy mentally gasped. The darkness threatened to consume his lover. Hate and pain made up the blackness and Remy had to counteract all that negativity by focusing on his love for Warren.

 

"I'm here, cher," Remy repeated, slightly relieved when Warren stopped trashing in his arms. "Will protect y'. Will drive the dark 'way," he vowed passionately.

 

Remy realized that the darkness was strong because Warren was feeding it. Warren still hadn't completely dealt with certain events from his past and they were gaining on him. "Je t'aime, cher," he whispered and battled despair himself. How could he ever reach his lover when the darkness continued to grow stronger? //Je t'aime, cher!//

 

Startled, Remy almost pulled away from Warren as his fingertips began to tingle. He'd experienced this phenomena a few times before and it had usually happened when he'd prepared his lover to make love. But this time a golden glow left his fingertips and snaked over on to Warren's fingers, engulfing his lover's hand in golden light. //Mon Dieu, what's dis?//

 

///

 

Unexpected warmth invaded the surrounding darkness and Warren clung to the glow. The hospital room faded and instead a golden cloud appeared, protectively wrapping itself around him. It was a magical experience. The emotional warmth was breathtaking and Warren lost himself in the love that surrounded him. //Remy?// Was this his lover's doing? But since when did Remy possess such… power?

 

The love that embraced him felt extremely powerful and penetrated each hidden corner of his being. Warren unintended held his breath, afraid that when he exhaled, the glow would disappear.

 

The warmth made him feel safe and images of Apocalypse and Cameron Hodge drifted at the outskirts of the glow, but couldn't penetrate the protective warmth.

 

Warren's eyes suddenly flashed open as he awoke with a whimper. "Remy?" His lover's brow was knitted with worry. The golden glow surrounded Remy as well and seemed to connect them, making them one. A golden silhouette illuminated their bedroom. "I had a nightmare…" he whispered and cocked his head, suddenly realizing that the golden glow surrounded them completely. An emotional safety blanket had been wrapped around him.

 

"I couldn' reach y'," Remy mumbled apologetically. "And den dis happened!" Feeling awed at whatever *dis* was, Remy grew silent.

 

"I feel warm," Warren said eventually, seeing apprehension in Remy's eyes. "I feel… loved?" Warren suddenly realized that Remy's empathy had kicked in big time. Usually, he didn't *feel* Remy this intensely. "I feel…" Warren paused to search for words, "I feel your love for me?"

 

"Got worried when y' didn' react, ange and… didn' do dis on purpose," Remy said apologetically. "Sorry for invadin' y'r mind like dat. Only excuse I've got is dat I was really worried."

 

"Rem, I love the way this feels," Warren said impressed. He'd known that Remy loved him deeply, but feeling it was awe-inspiring. "You love me this much? Wow." Warren had forgotten about his nightmares now that this warmth permeated his body and mind.

 

"Y're not mad wit' me for plungin' into y'r mind like dat?" Remy found that he couldn't release Warren's hand. The glow was keeping their fingers twined together. "Cher? Are we stuck?"

 

"I don't think so, Rem," Warren said reassuringly, soaking up Remy's love and affection like a sponge. The darkness in his nightmare had been too intimidating and he needed something to battle its memory. "Maybe I'm not ready to let go yet?" he suggested.

 

Remy's eyes grew big. "Cher, y' don' need *me* to fight y'r nightmares. Y're de strong one."

 

"Oh, Rem. You're *so* wrong!" Warren exclaimed. "Don't you know that you're my strength? If it hadn't been for you I would have let those assassins murder me. You gave me a reason to live. Do you have any idea how badly I need you?"

 

Remy blinked. "Need *moi*?" Why did he have a hard time believing that? Warren wasn't the headcase, Remy was!

 

"Does this work both ways?" Warren inquired interested and twined their fingers tighter. He'd give this a shot.

 

"Don't know, cher," Remy admitted. "Dis is new to me too." He trembled slightly as the golden glow flashed brightly. "What are y' doin', ange?"

 

"Sending you my feelings."

 

Remy gasped at the flood of feelings that suddenly washed over him. Love, affection, adoration, need and trust touched him deeply and Remy's eyes released a single tear. "Dat's beau… souffle-prent," Remy panted softly. "Takes my breat' 'way," he added, seeing Warren's questioning expression.

 

"I'm ready to let go now, are you?" Warren asked in a teasing tone. Remy finally understood how deep his feelings ran for his Cajun lover.

 

"Oui," Remy whispered, but his actions proved differently. His fingers refused to let go of Warren's and the golden glow intensified.

 

"No, you're not," Warren realized and leaned in closer, bringing their hands to his chest, holding them there. He pulled Remy up onto his knees so they were level and could easily look into each other's eyes. Warren leaned forward and rested his forehead against Remy's, never breaking eye contact. "I love you, Rem. You're my life."

 

Remy's eyes closed briefly. The love that stared back at him was too pure. "Ange." A soft sob escaped Remy.

 

"Tell me," Warren encouraged his lover.

 

"No one ever needed me like dis."

 

"Stupid Cajun," Warren chided him affectionately and he pressed a chaste kiss on his lover's lips. "Want to go to sleep like this?" He wouldn't mind feeling this warmth all night long. "The golden glow is *so* you, Rem!"

 

Remy actually chuckled, hearing that comment. It was true though. He wasn't ready to let go. That Warren still suffered from nightmares worried Remy. "Gonna hold y'," he whispered and pulled Warren down until they lay spooned. Holding Warren close, Remy buried his face in his lover's locks. One wing closed over him, creating a safe place.

 

Warren smiled. The glow was still there, proving to him that his lover would keep him safe.

 

"Will keep de nightmares 'way," Remy promised and this time he knew that he could keep that promise.

 

"I wish I could do the same thing for you, Rem," Warren whispered, feeling a little sad. But the warm glow made it hard to hold on to the sadness.

 

"Go to sleep, cher," Remy mumbled soothingly. "No more nightmares, I promise."

 

Lured in to sleep by his lover's promise and the warmth, Warren closed his eyes and snuggled closer to his lover. He craved feeling Remy's naked skin against his.

 

"Sleep, mon amour. Will watch over y'." Remy repeated the promise until Warren had fallen asleep. "Je t'aime," he added and realized that Warren thought of Remy as the strong one. //What a joke!//

 

///

 

San Francisco

 

Logan watched as Jean-Luc paced their hotel room. They'd decided to travel the good old USA with some newly bought Harley Davidsons and were heading out tomorrow morning. "What's buggin' ya?"

 

"Remy," Jean-Luc said without hesitance. "I'm worried about Remy."

 

"Why? They're on their honeymoon… what could possibly go wrong?" Logan considered his own question and then shook his head. "Don't answer that one." A lot of things could go wrong. Some villains would love to get a piece of Remy and Warren. "Any particular reason why yer worried?" Logan got up from the bed on which he'd been resting and walked over to his lover.

 

"Just a feeling, cher," Jean-Luc replied thoughtfully. "I can't really explain it, mais dere have been times when I… somehow knew Remy was in trouble and afterwards, my instincts proved right."

 

"Why don't ya give Remy a call? Or send them an e-mail message? The hotel has Internet access." Logan folded one arm around his lover's waist. Even after spending weeks together, the Cajun master thief still held back, held on to little secrets. Although the trust was there, Jean-Luc was reluctant to share everything with Logan, and hell, he understood Jean-Luc! He had secrets himself!

 

"You said it yourself, cher. It's deir honeymoon. I don't want to intrude."

 

"But yer worried." Logan observed Jean-Luc, as the Cajun struggled with himself to reach a decision. "Knowin' Remy, he'll be thrilled to hear from ya."

 

"Mebbe I'll send a message," Jean-Luc said reluctantly. "I don't know what's wrong with me." Nervously, he moved away from Logan's touch.

 

"What's goin' on, Cajun?" Logan didn't like this one bit. Jean-Luc had never acted this… upset before.

 

Jean-Luc locked eyes with Logan, obviously frustrated that he couldn't figure it out himself. "It's driving me insane," he mumbled eventually. "I feel like something terrible is about to happen and I can't stop it."

 

"Do ya get these 'hunches' often?" Logan inquired, concerned.

 

"Maddie always thought that I could tell de future," Jean-Luc said and shook his head. "Mais dat's just mumbo jumbo. I always thought dat it was connected to Remy's charm… empathy… magic, whatever you want to call it. We always had dis connection."

 

Logan carefully considered his answer. "Let's find a computer or a phone." If Jean-Luc was this edgy there had to be a good reason. Something told him that Jean-Luc hadn't stayed the Guild's patriarch without having some extraordinary skills and gifts.

 

///

 

Venice

 

"Good mornin', cher," Remy whispered and placed a kiss on the tip of Warren's nose. He'd sneaked out of bed earlier to get the breakfast tray so they could have breakfast in bed again. "I 'ready walked Wolvie…"

 

Warren stretched lazily and realized that something warm and heavy covered his feet. Wolvie had climbed onto the bed again and taken his rightful spot. "You're too good to be true, Rem."

 

Remy smiled shyly. "Coffee or tea?"

 

"Coffee," Warren said decisively. "Have there been any calls from my lawyer?"

 

"Not yet, cher." Remy peeked at his lover. "Wanna go home today?"

 

"I'll call him later and then we'll see. I don't want to break off our honeymoon, love." Warren dipped his finger into the strawberry marmalade and covered Remy's lips with the sweet substance. "I'm hungry," he whispered and pulled Remy down with him. They almost knocked over the tray when Remy settled down beside Warren. Wolvie gave them an indignant stare.

 

Warren looked deeply into Remy's eyes. "You're blushing!" Warren said teasingly.

 

"Why are y' lookin' at me like… dat?" Remy whispered nervously and accepted the strawberry that Warren offered him. The kitchen staff had added a plate of various fruits this morning and Remy wondered whether Warren planned on feeding them to him. "Cher?"

 

"Thank you for last night, Rem," Warren said sincerely. The golden glow was gone now. "Do you have any idea what happened?"

 

"I was tryin' to reach y'," Remy whispered shyly and obediently ate another strawberry. "Wanna talk 'bout dat nightmare?"

 

"It was Apocalypse again." Warren didn't want to discuss this. The morning was way to perfect to dwell on nightmares, but he knew Remy well enough to know that his lover wouldn't give in easily. "And Cameron Hodge." Had he ever told Remy about Cameron?

 

Confused, Remy locked eyes with Warren. "Who?"

 

"We grew up together. Cameron and I were best friends, but… I never realized that he'd become a mutant hater. When the Marauders damaged my wings…" Warren caught Remy's sharp intake of breath. "Which was *not* your fault, Rem, they could have been saved."

 

"I don' understand," Remy admitted and frowned. He'd never asked Warren how he'd dealt with losing his wings.

 

"My wings could have healed," Warren continued and claimed Remy's hand, which he kissed, palm and back. "But Cameron told the doctors to amputate my wings."

 

"What?" Remy's cry echoed through the room. "Cher, I didn' know…"

 

Warren gently caressed his lover's shaking hands. "Listen, love."

 

Remy tried to calm down. He hadn't known that Warren's wings could have been saved.

 

"Cameron belongs to an organization, the Right, which is determined to destroy all mutants. Our friendship no longer means a thing to him. Not after he found out that I was a mutant." Surprised, Warren gave in as Remy wrapped both arms around him. "It's okay, love," he said reassuringly, smelling the lilies, mixed with lilacs. "None of it was your fault, you should know that by now."

 

"If only I'd known what Sinister was up to! I'd never have led dem into de tunnels!"

 

"I believe you, Rem, now calm down." Warren almost regretted telling Remy about Cameron. "I've got my wings back. It's okay, love."

 

Remy drew in a deep breath. "It's just dat…"

 

"What?"

 

"I love y'r wings so much…"

 

Warren smiled warmly. "And I love you."

 

"Cher," Remy gasped the word. "I know y' do, mais sometimes it's hard to believe."

 

"Let's finish breakfast and then I'll make that call to Vincent. Depending on its outcome we can plan the rest of the day, okay?" Warren cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand and waited for his lover to meet his glance. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

 

Speechless, Remy just nodded his head.

 

///

 

Remy couldn't stand it any longer. Warren had been uncharacteristically quiet all morning and was now trying to reach his family lawyer. "Cher? How y' doin'?"

 

"Not that great," Warren whispered honestly and then took a deep breath when Vincent, his lawyer, answered the call.

 

Remy tried not to eavesdrop and moved into the living area, where Wolvie gave him a curious glance. "Hey, Wolvie," Remy said absentmindedly and sat cross-legged next to Wolvie, who rolled onto his back to offer his tummy to Remy.

 

"Want a tummy rub?" Remy smiled, amused. Wolvie always made him feel good. An animal's mind was very different from a human's, much less complicated, and Remy obliged the canine. His long, agile fingers teasingly rubbed the wolf's tummy. A soft growl escaped Wolvie's throat. "Y' like dat, non?"

 

Wolvie growled a little harder and Remy continued to rub. It took his mind off Warren's problems, no *their* problems. He'd tried to support Warren, assure his lover that he'd make a good dad, but wasn't that sure of his own qualities to raise a teenager. Would he, Remy LeBeau, make a good père too? He doubted it.

 

Yes, Jean-Luc had been a good role model. The Cajun master thief had given Remy all he needed and more. Jean-Luc had never held back his love and had always been there for him. But could he do the same thing for a strange 15 years old boy? However, Remy knew he had to try to make this work. Jason had just lost his father and Warren was all the boy had left.

 

It might take them a while to show Jason that mutants didn't differ that much from 'normal humans', but how would the kid react to finding out that his uncle was gay as well and then being confronted with Remy?

 

His temples began to throb and a headache set it. Merde, he didn't need this right now! Unexpectedly, arms wrapped themselves around him and the sudden contact made Remy jump to his feet. The gesture brought back memories of the Antiquary, holding him in place. Panting slightly, Remy freed himself of Warren's arms. He fled in to the opposite corner of the living room, creating distance between them.

 

"Rem?" Startled, Warren backed down. Remy's reaction worried him and the Cajun's eyes were haunted. "Bad memory?" he whispered, hoping he'd pegged down the source of Remy's reaction. His own heart thumped heavily seeing the terror in his lover's eyes.

 

"Don' do dat when I can' see y'!" Remy choked out eventually. He felt angry and ashamed at the same time. Angry that Warren hadn't given him an advance warning and ashamed because he still needed that warning.

 

"I'm sorry, Rem. I guess I forgot." Feeling truly remorseful, Warren simply extended his hand, not touching his lover yet. "Please?"

 

Remy eyed the hand briefly and then clasped his fingers around it. "I'm sorry too, cher." His empathy told him that his reaction scared Warren. "I didn' hear y' come in to de room and… for one terrible moment *he* was back in here."

 

Warren didn't need to hear the name to know that they were talking about the Antiquary. The bastard would probably never stop haunting Remy completely, though it helped to know that Daimon had dragged the sorcerer to Hell. They'd never heard from the son of Satan again.

 

"I spooked you…" Warren realized. "Would you give me a hug, Rem?" Warren hoped they could deal with these momentary flashbacks.

 

Shyly, Remy locked eyes with Warren. How could he ever deny his lover? Slowly, carefully, he took a step closer to Warren and folded his arms around his lover. "I'm 'kay," he whispered, forcing himself to relax now that he held his lover in his arms. "What did Vincent say?" His instincts urged Remy to change the subject matter.

 

"The judge's going to make a decision this afternoon. Vincent will call me once he knows more."

 

"Where's y'r nephew now?"

 

"With Vincent. Kid's very upset."

 

"Dat's understandable, cher," Remy whispered and cherished the embrace. "I know dis is hard on y'."

 

"Rem?" Warren broke the embrace, took possession of his lover's right hand and guided Remy to the couch where he sat the Cajun down. "I need to tell you something."

 

Remy immediately picked up on Warren's nervousness and tensed. Patiently, he gave Warren the time he needed to phrase his thoughts. What was this about? Was it about him freaking out at Warren's touch earlier?

 

Warren noticed the apprehension in Remy's eyes. "It's about the nightmare I had last night."

 

Remy didn't want to feel relieved, but he did. "Y' can tell me, cher."

 

"Some time ago I dated a young lady. I really was in love with Candy," Warren gave Remy a shy look. Discussing former lovers had never been high on his priority list, but he had to get this off his chest. Remy had to know why seeing Cameron Hodge's face in his nightmare had freaked him out.

 

Remy smiled reassuringly. He didn't know much about Warren's previous lovers.

 

Warren returned the smile hesitantly. "Candy was the opposite of Bets and really down to Earth. I was seriously considering settling down with her when Cameron Hodge abducted her." Warren had to stop briefly, as memories rushed back into his mind.

 

Remy remained completely quiet, but squeezed Warren's hand reassuringly. His lover could trust him with every facet of his past.

 

"Cameron tortured her."

 

Warren's admission took Remy aback. "Ange?" Surprised, Remy noticed Warren's watering eyes. Obviously, his lover had never really dealt with what had happened to her and Remy sent Warren his love and all the reassurance he could muster that it was okay to go on, that he would be there for Warren.

 

"I tried to rescue Candy, but realized too late that Cameron had set me up. It was a trap and she died. Cameron killed her." Warren forced back his tears. "When I saw his face in my nightmare last night it all came back."

 

"Oh, cher. Don' know what to say, 'cept I'm sorry dat happened. Dat must have hurt, still hurt," Remy whispered. He didn't know how to comfort Warren, who had suffered horribly.

 

"I can handle it," Warren assured Remy and squeezed his lover's hand in silent reply. "I just want you to know what's going on. I don't want to have any secrets from you, Rem."

 

Remy leaned in closer and enfolded Warren in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry y' had to go t'rough dat, cher."

 

"Rem?" Warren peeked at his lover, who immediately met his eyes. "Cameron's still out there. Be careful. The bastard's immortal. You can't kill him."

 

"Y' t'ink he might come after me too?" Remy shivered and stored away this new information.

 

"I don't know. He has disappeared for now, but please watch your back? Cameron is an obsessed psychotic. He wants what I have, my money, my power and he hates my lovers."

 

And absurd thought crossed Remy's mind. Would Cameron hate Warren enough to stage his brother's car accident? Non, he dismissed that thought. If that were true it meant that Cameron would have gone after Jason too and the kid was alive and safe.

 

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Remy's expression puzzled Warren.

 

Remy swallowed hard. Something else had popped up in his thoughts. "Cher, can it be dat dis Cameron wants y' for himself? If he's dat obsessed wit' y', maybe he's in love wit' y' and really possessive?"

 

Warren blinked his eyes. "I never thought of that, Rem. As I said earlier, Cameron and I were best friends when we were kids, but I never saw anything that would indicate that he had a crush on me. Cameron hates mutants."

 

"I wouldn' rule it out, cher," Remy chided Warren gently. "Mebbe dis Cameron doesn' know why he feels de way he feels?"

 

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I don't care about his *feelings*. I think that he's no longer capable of having any emotions. All I care about is your safety, Rem."

 

Remy tightened the embrace and held Warren close. "I'll be careful," he promised passionately.

 

 

 

Note //…// depicts thought.

 

Part 5

 

Westchester

 

"Scott?" Bobby frowned disapprovingly as he found Scott sitting in kitchen after midnight. "What are you doing here?" Scott never was in the kitchen at such a late hour! Concerned, he pulled up a chair and straddled it. Ever since they'd worked together to find Remy they'd grown closer.

 

"I couldn't sleep." Scott nursed his hot milk. "I could ask you the same thing."

 

"Nick woke up with a growling stomach," Bobby explained, fairly certain that Scott wouldn't make a big deal out of Nick staying the night. "Why can't you sleep?" Bobby urged Scott on, who obviously needed to talk to someone. Maybe Scott preferred to talk to him instead of Jean? Especially if this was connected to Remy.

 

"I just got the message that Warren's brother died unexpectedly. He leaves behind a 15 years old son." Scott sighed deeply. "Warren wrote that they'll probably have to take care of the kid."

 

"That was one damn short honeymoon," Bobby said regretfully. "Anything we can do?"

 

"Warren doesn't think so. He's still waiting for the judge's decision, but wants to return home to attend his brother's funeral." Scott sipped from his hot milk. "This couldn't have happened at a worse time."

 

Bobby nodded his head. "Are we gonna attend the funeral too?"

 

"I was thinking of going alone." Scott licked his lips. "Or do you want to come along?"

 

"You aren't taking Jean along?"

 

"No, the professor and Jean are in the midst of an experiment and she can't leave." Scott leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You know… I still find it hard to believe that Remy's my brother. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled to have another brother," he explained quickly. "But there's something… disconcerting about gaining a brother who's already in his twenties. I wish we could have grown up together."

 

"Did you have any luck contacting Corsair yet?" Bobby got to his feet and prepared some sandwiches for Nicholas.

 

"No, I don't know how to reach him." Scott emptied his mug and placed it in the sink. "I'll let you know when we'll leave for the funeral."

 

"Okay," Bobby whispered and locked eyes with Scott. "Are you worried about Warren and Remy?"

 

"Not Warren, not really. He's tough. I'm more worried for Remy. He looked fragile when we talked to him in Ireland and later at the commitment ceremony he seemed to have regained some weight, but…"

 

"Remy's a survivor," Bobby said reassuringly. "You'll see that when we get there." Bobby picked up his plate with sandwiches and headed for the corridor. "Give him a little credit. He's a lot tougher than you think."

 

Scott hoped that Bobby was right.

 

///

 

Venice

 

"Rem, you've got mail!" Warren looked up at his lover, who sat reading on the sofa. Warren had sent Scott a message to tell him about his brother and had wanted to check his inbox when he noticed Jean-Luc's message.

 

Uninterested, Remy looked up from his book and locked eyes with Warren. "Who's it from, cher?"

 

"Your dad." Warren enjoyed seeing the change in Remy's eyes, as a sparkle appeared in them. Warren got up from behind the desk and gestured Remy to take the seat instead. "Go on, answer the man!" He felt a little better now that he'd told Remy about Candy and Cameron Hodge. But something else bothered him; the way Remy had freaked out at his unexpected touch. He had to be more careful in the future.

 

Remy quickly covered the distance and sat down in front of the screen. Clicking on the message, he said, "Y' don' have to go, cher. I keep no secrets from y'."

 

"Why don't you read it first?" Warren suggested and made himself comfortable on the couch. Wolvie sneaked closer and dropped his weight unceremoniously on Warren's feet. "What do you think you're doing?" Warren inquired and shook his head as he realized that he expected the canine to actually answer him. Yeah, like Wolvie could talk!

 

"He wants y' to have warm feet, cher," Remy reminded Warren. Wolvie always fell asleep at the foot end of their bed, serving as an extra quilt. Remy quickly scanned his père's message. "He wants to know if we're fine, ange." Jean-Luc also apologized for disturbing their honeymoon. Remy smiled.

 

But as he reread the message his merriment faded a little, noticing the worried tone of the message. Quickly, he typed his reply, assuring Jean-Luc that he was fine. Should he also tell his père that Warren's brother had died and that they were heading home soon? He decided against it for now and sent the message, hoping it would reassure Jean-Luc.

 

"Did y'r lawyer call yet?" Remy moved back to the couch and swallowed hard. Next, he made what he considered a very bold move. He straddled Warren and looked deeply in to his lover's eyes. "We'll leave tomorrow," he realized a little saddened.

 

"I'm afraid so, Rem. No matter what the judge will decide I want to attend Sam's funeral. It's the least I can do and I want to talk to Jason." Warren saw the regret in Remy's eyes. "I'm sorry, love. I don't want to leave either, but we don't have a choice. Maybe we can come back after we dealt with everything?"

 

"I'd like dat," Remy admitted, but then grew quiet again. He was struggling emotionally, trying to make a very difficult decision. "Want y' to make love to me."

 

Puzzled, Warren raised an eyebrow. "Rem, what exactly are you saying?" He was treading on dangerous grounds if he interpreted Remy's request correctly.

 

"Want y' to take me," Remy confirmed. "I want to take dat step."

 

"Do you think you're ready for that?" Warren looked thoughtfully at Rem. Yes, his lover had been relaxed enough to let one or two fingers penetrate him the last time they'd made love, but Warren doubted Remy was ready to go all the way. "I don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with, Rem."

 

"Mais I want to do it! I want to enjoy it," Remy said steadfast. "De bastard took dat 'way from me and I want it back!"

 

Warren still wasn't convinced. "We'll see what happens."

 

///

 

"Mon amour," Remy whispered and arched his back as Warren's tongue did incredible things to his throbbing cock. He tried hard not to think about what was to come. Remy had talked for hours, assuring Warren that he really wanted to do this and in the end, Warren had given in.

 

"Rem, are you sure?" Warren asked one last time as his index finger brushed Remy's prostate. It had taken a lot of time and gentleness to get Remy to relax enough to take two fingers and Warren needed this last conformation that his lover truly wanted this.

 

"Please take me, ange," Remy whispered, denying how scared he felt. He was on his back, legs spread wide and Warren was kneeling between them. He had to see Warren's face when they finally made love. Had to be sure that it wasn't the Antiquary touching him.

 

"Lift your hips, love, " Warren instructed after removing his fingers from Remy's warm body. Warren pushed a pillow beneath Remy's hips and slowly lowered his body so he covered Remy's. Carefully monitoring Remy, Warren grabbed the lube again and coated his erection with a generous amount of Wet.

 

Warren now faced a dilemma. Part of him couldn't wait to make Remy his, to thrust inside that hot passage, but another part urged him to stop.

 

"Please, cher, make me y'rs. Want dis," Remy said, as he picked up on Warren's reluctance to finally bury himself inside his lover's body. Remy tried to control the tremors that started to rock his body. "Take me!" Warren's weight pressed him down and he fought a rising panic as the blunt head of Warren's cock pressed against his entrance.

 

Warren carefully positioned himself and took a deep breath. Remy had wrapped his legs around Warren's waist and they didn't leave him much room to manoeuvre. "I'm going to push inside now. Don't worry, love. I won't hurt you. Just try to relax for me?" Warren never broke eye contact and saw the rising panic in the gold on black eyes. "Rem, do you want to stop?" If Remy gave the word, Warren would stop. Remy's nails buried themselves in his flesh as his cock nudged against Remy's entrance, opening his lover up. A groan left Warren's lips as he started to slide inside. He'd died and gone to heaven! "You're doing great, Rem. I love you, you know that, don't you?" Warren held his breath as he pushed passed the tight ring of muscle. He was inside; they'd taken that first step. "Love you, Rem. You…" Warren never got the chance to finish the compliment, as Remy unexpectedly convulsed beneath him.

 

"Get off!" Images of the Antiquary invaded Remy's mind. He remembered how the bastard had forced him onto his hands and knees and had pushed inside without warning. Feeling a similar invasion, he panicked. Warren's face changed into the Antiquary's visage and Remy reacted instinctively, freeing himself. "Get off!" A terrible agony coursed through him as his lower body exploded with remembered pain. It was happening all over again! Remy lost control and tried to throw off the heavy body that pressed him down.

 

Remy's shrieks alarmed Warren and he wanted to pull out immediately, but Remy used his long legs to catapult him through the room. Warren slammed hard into the wall. "Rem." His sigh flowed through the bedroom. He should never have given in to Remy's demands! Should have known that Remy wasn't ready to take this step! He should have known better!

 

"Get off me! Don' touch! Don' want dis!" Remy curled up and snatched the comforter, quickly covering his naked body with it. "Stay 'way…" He shook violently as memories overwhelmed him. It hurt so bad! He never wanted to feel that invasive pain again and had to protect himself.

 

Warren cautiously made his way back to Remy's side. His left shoulder hurt, but he locked out the throbbing pain. Consoling his lover was way more important. "Rem?" He sat down on the side of the bed, but didn't attempt to touch the Cajun. "Flashback?" His instincts told him what had happened and he blamed himself for causing this pain. He'd been way too eager to take Remy.

 

"Don'… hurts bad… don' touch…" Remy hid his face behind his arms, pulled his knees up to his chest and crept deeper beneath the comforter. He still shook violently and couldn't get the image of the Antiquary thrusting above him out of his mind.

 

"I'm not going to touch you, love," Warren assured him. His heart ached in pain, seeing Remy in such agony. 

 

"I keep seein' him," Remy whispered in a panicked tone. "I t'ought… t'ought y' were him." Remy wasn't sure how Warren would react to that revelation and mentally prepared himself for his lover's anger.

 

"Rem, can you look at me? I won't touch you, but I'd like to see your eyes, please, love?" Warren wasn't above begging. He needed to make contact, *real* contact with Remy.

 

"Non, can' do dat." Now that the terror was growing less, shame took over. "Did I slam y' into de wall?"

 

"Don't worry about that. Look at me, Rem?" Remy's body visibly shook beneath the comforter. "Or do you want me to leave?"

 

"NON!" Remy yelped suddenly. "Don' go!"

 

"Rem, I'll stay," Warren quickly assured him. He grew aware of a fragrance he'd never smelled before. It was the disgusting smell of rotting flowers and it urged him on. "Rem? Love, look at me!"

 

Remy peeked at his lover. A wave of love, affection and worry washed over him. "Y' ain' angry?"

 

"Not with you," Warren assured him. "Rem, we knew this could happen." Warren decided to be completely honest. "Part of this is my fault. I shouldn't have given in. But Remy, you've got to stop pushing yourself like this!"

 

Remy lowered the comforter slightly. "Mais I feel dat y're mad." Remy regulated his too fast breathing and tried to calm down. He felt like a failure for freaking out on Warren in the midst of making love. He'd really wanted this!

 

"I'm mad with the Antiquary, what do you think?" Warren regretted his bitter tone. Remy would take it personally and think that bitterness was directed at him. He knew his lover! "Rem, I hate the bastard for what he did to you and I wish I could go to Hell and beat the crap out of him. I never wanted to intentionally hurt someone, but I want to kill him over and over again!"

 

Remy startled a little at Warren's vehement tone. "Mais it was moi, who… who lost it, slammed y' into de wall." He expected Warren to be irritated, maybe even angry with him.

 

"Remy." Warren hated to spell it out like this, but had no choice. "You're the victim. You're not to blame for what happened. The Antiquary hurt you. You should be angry with him! Please, don't take it out on yourself. Don't let the bastard win. You've got to accept that you couldn't stop him. He was stronger and you were only a child. Don't direct this anger at yourself, love." Warren raised his hand and placed it next to Remy's, not touching yet, but curled his fingers in invitation.

 

"I feel dirty," Remy admitted in a choked tone. "I should have done somet'in' to stop him."

 

"What? What could you have done? How can a small child stop a grown man? Tell me, Rem." Warren fought hard to control his rage aimed at the Antiquary. He had to be calm and in control for Remy.

 

"Mebbe…" Remy looked up pleadingly. "Don' know, cher." Back then, he hadn't found a way to fight the Antiquary. "De ot'er kids held me down when I fought him."

 

"Oh, Rem!" Warren wished he could console his lover by showering Remy's face with kisses. Although he knew the basics of what had happened back then, Remy hadn't told him the sordid details. The Cajun was still trying to deal with it on his own. "Can I ask you something, love?"

 

"Mais oui." Feeling a little reassured, Remy uncurled and moved onto his side so he could better look at Warren's face. However, he continued to clutch the comforter like it was a lifeline.

 

"Suppose I wouldn't want to go down on you because it makes me feel like I'll choke. Would you want me to go down on you anyway?" Patiently, Warren waited for Remy's answer. He noticed how Remy's fingers sneaked closer and finally curled around his.

 

"Non, wouldn' want dat," Remy said passionately, momentarily forgetting his own pain. "Would never want y' to do anyt'in' dat made y' uncomfortable."

 

"You see, Rem, that's why I don't want you to push yourself like this." Warren experimentally squeezed Remy's hand gently. "I told you this before and I'll tell you again. I love you. I don't need to penetrate you to make love to you. I don't want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

 

During Warren's speech, Remy sat up and Warren smiled reassuringly. His lover still clutched the comforter, but the eyes were lucid again. "Listen Rem, I know it's important that you have control in bed, but I don't feel comfortable doing this. I don't want to be the reason why you have flashbacks. It's obviously way too early to try this. And I'm putting a stop to it."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat. Was Warren dumping him? Tears threatened to leave his eyes and he forced them back. "What are y' tryin' to say? Are y' kickin' me out of y'r life?"

 

"You really don't get it, do you?" Warren said stunned. "I'll *never* dump you, Remy! I just don't want to add to your pain. I don't want you to bottom again, do you understand? I'm comfortable with you being on top. Please try to understand, Rem." But Remy's response had told him a lot. His lover was still afraid that he'd eventually desert Remy.

 

Remy lowered his eyes. He'd completely misunderstood his lover and felt ashamed for not giving Warren any credit. "Sorry, cher."

 

"Stop being sorry, Rem." Warren got to his feet. It was time for a little distraction. "You promised to cook a Cajun meal each month. It’s dinner time and I'm hungry!"

 

Thankful for the change of subject Remy nodded his head. "Y'll get some Gumbo!"

 

Warren smiled warmly and released Remy's hand. "Why don't we get dressed? We can't run around naked in the hotel's kitchen!" Remy chuckled softly and Warren felt relieved. Had they mastered this crisis? He turned around to get dressed and gave Remy all the privacy his lover needed to get in to his sweats too.

 

Remy was relieved when Warren left him alone. He threw off the comforter and quickly slipped into some sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt. Remy sat down on the bed again and stared at his hands. He'd lost control and could have injured Warren badly. Maybe his lover was right and he should stop pushing this, at least for now. Warren seemed very content to make love in other ways and maybe he should try to accept that? But could he do that?

 

Damn the Antiquary for ruining his life like this. The bastard had taken away his control when he'd been a child, had taken away his ability to enjoy feeling Warren inside him. Suddenly, a rush of rage moved through him and Remy banged his right hand into the head end of the bed.

 

"Merde!" Remy cursed loudly. When Warren had told him that his lover was angry with the Antiquary, Remy hadn't understood. He'd been too busy directing that anger and the blame at himself, but Warren's words had released some of his own hidden anger. He almost charged the sheets with kinetic energy and barely held back. He had to get that anger back under control. An explosion in here would be disastrous.

 

"Rem?" Fully clothed, Warren appeared in the doorway and studied his lover. The anger on Remy's face was a welcome sight and he knew what to do. "Put on your socks and shoes. I'll get your coat."

 

Confused, Remy looked up at Warren. "Why?" Tremors shook his body and Remy tried hard not to fall apart in front of Warren.

 

"We're going flying and find ourselves a nice deserted place where you can let go of that anger." Warren studied his lover carefully. It was time that Remy let go of some of the pain and rage that had been locked up for too many years.

 

///

 

"Well, Rem. We're here," Warren said, pleased and gestured at the deserted pastures. "Want to charge something?" Warren handed his lover a deck of cards.

 

Remy stared at the cards suspiciously. "Cher, I never…" He always tried hard to control his rage, afraid to hurt someone accidentally.

 

"Take them," Warren insisted and took hold of Remy's hand. He didn't want to startle his lover unnecessarily and moved slowly. "You know you're angry with him. Remember that night in Ireland when you threw your charged cards into the lake?"

 

"Oui." Remy accepted the deck of cards and stared at them. "It's true, y' know. I'm angry."

 

"And you've kept it inside for all these years. It's okay to let go, love."

 

Remy fumbled the cards in his hand. Warren shouldn't encourage him like this. "*I* messed up, ange. *I* can' deal wit' dis."

 

"Remy," Warren said softly and pushed a stray lock behind Remy's right ear. His lover didn't flinch and Warren felt encouraged. "You were a child. A small child! He had no right to touch you!" His anger flared as he said those words. "The bastard shouldn't have raped you!"

 

The card in Remy's hand began to glow. //Ange's right. I was only a chile. I didn' know what was happenin'… I couldn' fight him!// Tears flowed down his cheeks as the emotions refused to be caged any longer. Maybe being an empath was the reason why they'd remained caged for so long. He'd repressed them, had pretended they didn't exist and that they had no right to break loose. "I hate him!"

 

"Yes, I know you do. I hate him too." Concerned, Warren watched as the kinetic charge continued to build. "You should throw that card before it blows us up, love."

 

Remy reacted sluggishly and threw the card, which exploded in mid-air. 

 

Worried that it had taken Remy so long to throw the card, Warren asked, "You don't want to blow yourself up, Remy, do you?" When he didn't get an answer, Warren cupped Remy's chin in the palm of his hand, forcing his lover to look up at him. "Do you?"

 

His mouth had gone dry and Remy stared helplessly into Warren's eyes. "Dere was a time when… when I t'ought like dat."

 

"Do you still?" Warren held his breath. He'd never expected this admission.

 

"Non," Remy whispered softly. "Non, don' think like dat any longer. Want to be wit' y', cher and… y're right. I should blame him and not me. I was just a chile, right?"

 

Remy's pleading eyes locked with his and Warren nodded his head once. "Yes, you were just a child." Fascinated, he watched as the deck of cards began to glow. "Are you ready to let go of some anger?"

 

"Oui, cher," Remy mumbled and charged the deck with kinetic energy. "He should have kept his hands to himself!"

 

Warren approved of Remy's sudden vehement tone. "Yeah, that's true."

 

"I hate him," Remy sobbed as tears of relief and anger fought for dominance. "He…" Remy looked to Warren for support. Saying the words was hard.

 

"It's okay, Rem. Say it."

 

"He raped me… and… told me I was to blame," Remy bit his lower lip. "He told me lies." After uttering those last words, he let the cards fly from his fingers and they exploded before hitting the earth.

 

"Do you feel better?" Warren asked after giving Remy a moment to compose himself. The tremors had weakened and the rivulet of tears was growing less. Daffodils, Warren distinctly smelled daffodils. "Rem?"

 

"I feel better," Remy said absentmindedly. "Felt liberatin' to say it 'loud." He was focused inward and tried to make sense of what he was feeling. "Would y' hold me?" Remy asked hesitantly.

 

"Are you sure you can deal with that?" Warren didn't want to repeat past mistakes.

 

"Oui, cher."

 

It was the expression in Remy's eyes that convinced Warren that wrapping his arms around his lover was okay. Moving slowly, giving Remy time to adjust to his presence, Warren first folded one and then another arm around Remy's shoulders.

 

Remy leaned in closer and rested his head against Warren's chest. "Y' really must love me to put up wit' dis." Feeling emotionally drained, Remy drew in a deep breath. "Je t'aime, Warren."

 

"Crazy Cajun." Remy didn't call him Warren that often and he understood its significance. "I really love you, Remy LeBeau."

 

"Can we go back to de Palazzo now?" His knees almost gave out on him and Remy clung to Warren for support. He hadn't charged anything in a long time and the sudden kinetic release had drained him. Finally letting out his anger had taken away the rest of his energy.

 

"Sure, we'll fly back. Hold on, love." Warren placed one hand beneath his lover's knees and his other below Remy's back. Lifting him from the ground, Warren spread his wings and took to the air. As he looked down at Remy, he whispered, "Close your eyes, Rem. I can see you're tired."

 

"Don' wanna fall 'sleep on y'," Remy objected, but his eyes slipped shut nonetheless. Admitting his anger felt good; liberated that part of him that still felt like the child the Antiquary abused. He felt complete now; like he'd kept the child that he'd once been locked away. All these feelings confused him and he listened to the beating of Warren's wings, which always soothed him.

 

Warren pulled Remy close to his chest and realized that his lover was falling asleep. He hoped that getting Remy to release some of that anger had been the right thing to do.

 

///

 

Warren landed gently at the back of the Palazzo and carried Remy inside. His lover was still soundly asleep and Warren intended to keep it that way. But Remy stirred in his arms and Warren realized his lover was about to wake up. "Stay asleep, love."

 

Sleepily, Remy opened his eyes and wondered why he was floating in the air. Then he realized that he was in Warren's arms and that his lover was carrying him inside. "Can walk, cher."

 

"I know that. I just love carrying you like this, Rem." Warren smiled brightly and placed a single kiss on Remy's brow. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep, love?"

 

"Don' wanna have nightmares," Remy objected, barely audible. His eyes refused to stay open and his head lolled back to rest against Warren's chest. Maybe he didn't have much of a choice.

 

"Open the door for me?" Warren asked, now that Remy was awake anyway. Remy obeyed and Warren carried his lover into the bedroom. "Your eyes are closing again," he said, slightly amused. "Don't fight it. Your body's trying to tell you something."

 

Remy curled up and allowed Warren to cover him with the comforter. "Will y' stay close, cher?"

 

"Sure. I'll be in the living room. I need to make a few calls." He still had to check on the preparations for Sam's funeral and the judge's decision. "Just call me should you need something, love."

 

"Merci, cher," Remy whispered, already dozing off.

 

Remy's fingers clawed the comforter and Warren doubted that Remy would go back to sleeping naked at his side in the near future. That was okay with him because he understood. During these last few hours he'd seen how vulnerable Remy was.

 

"Sleep tight, my angel," Warren whispered and kissed Remy's brow one last time.

 

///

 

Warren headed into the living room, picked up the phone and dialed his lawyer's number. Vincent answered at once. "Vince, it's me, Warren. I want an update."

 

"The judge awarded you custody of Jason. You're his legal guardian now."

 

Mentally, Warren cursed. "Vince, I don't know a thing about raising a teenager!"

 

"You're the only family he has left," Vince reminded him.

 

"Where's Jason now?"

 

"Back at my place. Jason was in the car when the accident happened. He saw Sam die." Vince took a deep breath. "He'll be a handful."

 

Warren sat down. He hadn't known that Jason had seen his father die. "Does he know that he'll live with me from now on?"

 

"I still need to tell him."

 

Warren heard the cautious tone in Vincent's voice. "Let me guess. The kid hates mutants?"

 

"Sam passed his dislike of mutants on to his son. Jason won't be thrilled to live with you, but I'll do my best to explain things to him."

 

"We're leaving for Florida in the morning," Warren informed his lawyer. "We'll attend the funeral and take Jason home with us."

 

"How does your partner feel about this?" Vincent inquired.

 

"Remy's not doing that great. Vince, I need you to take care of some things."

 

"What can I do for you?"

 

"I want to change my last name to LeBeau. Do you think you can take care of the legalities?"

 

Vince whistled through the phone. "I'll look in to it. I'll call you once I know more. Do you want to give Remy power of attorney?"

 

"Yes. I want him to have full access to my bank accounts and I also want him to have authority to decide what to do should I ever get critically injured."

 

"I'll find a way to organize it," Vince promised. "What do you want me to tell Jason?"

 

"Tell him that Remy and I'll take care of him." Warren took a deep breath. This would be hard on all three of them. Jason didn't want to live with them, Remy was still battling his demons and he was caught in the middle of it all.

 

Note //…// depicts thought.

 

Part 6

 

Venice

 

Warren sat upright in bed and studied Remy, who was still soundly asleep. Remy had fallen asleep after they'd gotten back and hadn't woken since. It pleased Warren that his lover had slept for that many hours undisturbed. He'd expected Remy to suffer from nightmares, but thankfully they'd left him alone.

 

His fingers gently caressed Remy's locks and Warren sighed. They had to leave in 4 hours and after they had arrived in Florida they would attend Sam's funeral.

 

"Oh Rem," he whispered softly, careful not wake his lover yet. "What am I going to do with you?" Remy's panicked reaction yesterday had stunned Warren. He'd been fairly confident that Remy had been pushing himself and wasn't ready to be penetrated, but Warren had never expected to be slammed into the wall! Warren made up his mind. He wouldn't allow Remy to bottom again in the near future. Maybe in six months, or a year, when his lover had had some time to get to terms with everything that had happened.

 

"Ange?"

 

Remy's sleepy voice pulled Warren from his musings. "Hello there, sleeping beauty," he whispered and placed a gentle kiss on Remy's lips. "How are you feeling today?"

 

"'Kay," Remy whispered and fully opened his eyes. Everything that had happened last night was kind of blurry, but he clearly remembered throwing Warren off when they'd made love and he still felt bad about that. Yes, Warren had assured him that everything was fine again, but the doubt continued to eat away at him. "Can I ask y' somet'in'?"

 

"Sure." Warren moved until he was on his side, facing his lover. He was no longer touching Remy, leaving his lover to take the initiative… or not.

 

"What did y' mean when y' said y' didn’ want me to bottom 'gain?" This had been bugging Remy since last night. He didn't want to assume he knew what Warren had meant since he'd misunderstood Warren badly when he'd thought that his lover was dumping him. He'd ask questions instead.

 

Warren expected that question. "No more pushing yourself for *at least* 6 months. Do we agree on that? You need some time to deal with everything and I need to get over the… fear of hurting you like that again."

 

Confused, Remy sat up and looked at his lover. "Fear? Y' didn' hurt me."

 

"Because we tried to make love in that certain way you had a flashback. That… scares me. I don't want to hurt you." Warren leaned into the touch as Remy's fingers caressed his face. "I love you too much to take such risks."

 

Remy caressed Warren's brow and let his fingers slide into the mane of golden locks. "Y' really don' mind bein' on de receivin' end all de time?" he asked nervously. "I just don' understand how y' can enjoy it."

 

"Rem, the next time we make love, open your shields completely and try to feel what I feel?" Warren looked Remy in the eyes as he sat up. "When you're inside me, it feels amazing. I feel like being a part of you when we make love."

 

Shyly, Remy nodded his head. "Merci, cher."

 

"Now, why don't you take a shower, eat breakfast and get dressed? We've got to leave in 4 hours. We have to be on time for Sam's funeral."

 

"Mais oui, cher," Remy replied quickly and pushed back the comforter. "I went to bed fully clot'ed?" he realized, surprised.

 

"Yes, you were asleep when we got back and I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me undressing you in your sleep." Warren watched as Remy got to his feet. Remy swayed a little.

 

Remy considered Warren's words and then walked over to his lover's side of the bed, where he kneeled. Warren looked him in the eyes. "Cher, it wasn' y', y' understand? I… loved de way y' touched me, even… down dere," Remy whispered and a blush spread over his face. "Mais den I saw… his face and… I lost it."

 

"Me pushing inside triggered it?" Warren opened his arms. Remy quickly moved into them and Warren rested his chin on top of Remy's head.

 

"'fraid so," Remy mumbled against Warren's chest. "And y' may be right."

 

"About what?" Warren kissed a strand of Remy's hair.

 

"Dat I'm not ready yet to… let y' take me," Remy whispered barely audible. "Mebbe y're right and we shouldn' try 'gain for de next few mont's and… I feel relieved dat y' suggested it. Takes 'way de pressure." Remy was afraid to look up and firmly closed his eyes. "Are y' really 'kay wit' dis?"

 

"More than okay," Warren assured him and soothingly stroked Remy's back. "We're not going to try again for some time. I really think that's the best thing to do."

 

Remy nodded his head. "Je t'aime, cher. Sorry for bein'…"

 

"Don't dare to apologize for needing time to recover, love!" Warren said firmly. "You can have all the time you need."

 

Remy broke the embrace and finally made eye contact with Warren. "Cher, am hungry."

 

"Want to eat breakfast first and shower later?" Warren suggested and pulled Remy to his feet. "Let's go into the kitchen and plunder it!"

 

Remy released the breath he'd been holding and followed Warren into the corridor. //Am goin' to be stron' for y' from now on! No more tests, no more breakdowns. Je t'aime, cher!//

 

///

 

Florida

 

"I don't care what the judge says! I refuse to live with him!" Stubbornly, Jayce glared at Vincent. "He's a mutant!"

 

Exasperated, Vincent tried to talk some sense into the kid. "Listen, Jason…"

 

"It's Jayce!"

 

"Listen, Jayce," Vincent tried again. "Warren's a good person. You shouldn't judge without knowing him. You only know what your father told you and Sam was prejudiced."

 

"Don't talk about my dad like that!" Jayce got to his feet and faced Vincent. His ash blond locks danced on his shoulders and his eyes shot fire. "My dad just died! You could show a little respect!"

 

"It's the truth," Vincent replied determinedly. "Kid, you know I'm sorry that he died. Sam was a good friend." He'd been Sam's lawyer for years. "But you need someone to look after you."

 

"I don't *need* anyone!" Jayce glared at Vincent. "You could have given me an allowance so I can take care of myself." Accusation and bitterness colored his tone. He stalked over to the window and straightened out the dark suit he was wearing. They'd leave in a few minutes to attend his father's funeral.

 

"You know Sam's will," Vincent pointed out to the boy. "You can't get to the money until you're 21. That's 6 more years." Vincent studied Jayce and wondered what was really going on in the kid's head. Jayce showed a lot of anger, but didn't seem to mourn his father's death much. //Which is understandable… in a way.//

 

Sam had sent Jason to boarding school when the boy had been 5. It had taken Vincent some effort to find a school that was willing to take in a boy that young. Jason had only spent the holidays at home and even then Sam hadn't been around much. It was safe to say that Jason never had a chance to really get to know his father… or his uncle.

 

"Warren's prepared to look after you." Vincent knew he also had to tell the kid about Remy and was working towards it.

 

"And after two days he'll send me back to Saint Andrew's, so what's the big deal?" Actually, he wanted to go back to school. At least there he'd get some peace and quiet and maybe, he'd be able to get the picture out of his mind of his father dying strapped to the seat inside the burning Mercedes.

 

Jayce had really been looking forward to this vacation. His father had promised to take him places, maybe even take him to Europe to introduce him to some business partners and then the accident had happened. His father's screams still echoed in his head. Why had he survived and why did his father have to die? He hadn't known his dad at all! Angrily, Jayce wiped away the tears that spilled from his eyes and he aimed that anger at Vincent instead. "What?"

 

"I doubt he'll send you back to school that quickly. Warren wants to get to know you."

 

"Why?" Jayce stalked a little closer. A terrible anger raged deep inside him.

 

"I know Warren. He'll want to look after you personally."

 

Jayce raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why would he want to do that? Doesn't he know I can't stand him?" His father had told him about mutants, that they threatened the 'normal' humans and that they had to stop mutants from gaining the upper hand.

 

Vincent decided to tell Jayce everything. "Warren and Remy just got married. They were on their honeymoon when Sam died and they…"

 

"Remy," Jayce whispered thoughtfully. "Isn't that a man's name?" His eyes turned into suspicious slits. "Warren's a faggot too?"

 

"Don't you dare use that word in my presence, Jason Worthington!" Vincent was losing his patience with the kid. He'd been willing to put up with a lot because of the trauma that Jason had suffered, but he couldn't tolerate this. "Warren's in love with a man, that's it. I don't want to hear that word again!"

 

"A fucking faggot… well, it takes two faggots to fuck," Jayce stated in a malicious tone.

 

Vincent could only stare at the 15 years old boy. Where had Jason picked up such language? Surely not at the exclusive boarding school where Sam had sent his son.

 

"Is his bitch a mutie too?" Delighted, Jayce registered the shock on the lawyer's face. Hell, it felt good to get the anger out of his system!

 

"Go to your room, young man." Vincent was dumbstruck. He didn't have any kids and wasn't sure how to react. "You better not repeat that in front of Warren or Remy. Get the hell out."

 

If looks could kill, Vincent would have been dead by now. Jayce's eyes possessed a poisonous expression. "This isn't over yet," Jayce announced victoriously as he marched out of the living room. Being honest with himself, he knew he was taking out his anger on the wrong person, but there was no one else around.

 

He slammed his bedroom door hard behind him and flung himself onto the bed. He hated this room, which wasn't even his. It was just Vincent's guest room and it stung that he'd never had his own room. At school he had to share with the other boys. "All I ever wanted was a home."

 

And that was the one thing Samuel Worthington had never given his son, a home. Sam had always been traveling, conducting business and had rarely remembered his son. Jayce suspected that his father resented him because his birth had resulted in his mother's death.

 

Jayce sneaked his hand into his traveling bag and uncovered the only picture he owned of his mother. Margaret had been a beautiful woman and he'd inherited her features and her eyes. Maybe that was why Sam had found it difficult to spend time with him.

 

Now he was an orphan and an uncle he'd never known had been awarded custody. Rebelling against that decision he clenched his mother's picture in his hand. "I don't need him to look after me. I can take care of myself!" He wasn't going to make things easy on Warren and planned on manipulating his uncle so Warren would sent him back to Saint Andrew's. He wanted Warren out of his life!

 

Staring at his mother's image, he wondered why he'd reacted so viciously when Vincent had reminded him of the fact that Warren was a mutant. Although his father had tried to install a similar hate in him, Jayce didn't really believe that all mutants were evil. But he'd known better than to openly contradict his father. Sam had been really fanatic when he'd talked about eradicating mutants. His dad had even joined an organization called 'The Right' to support their cause. His father's fanaticism had made him weary and he didn't trust 'The Right' at all.

 

But the thing that had shocked him most was learning that his uncle was living a male lover, he'd even married the man! Gays made him feel uncomfortable for several reasons. And now he was supposed to live with a gay couple? No way! Never! He'd either find a way to push them apart or to force them to send him back to Saint Andrew's, but he refused to live with them!

 

"Jayce? It's time to go."

 

Jayce sighed, hearing Vincent's voice. "I'll be with you in a moment."

 

"And watch your mouth at the funeral. Show you've got some manners," Vincent instructed, still worried that the boy had been so vicious when he'd learned that Warren loved a man.

 

"I'll try," Jayce promised as he opened the bedroom door. "After all, it's my father's funeral. I don't want to cause a scene."

 

Vincent shook his head as the boy descended the stairs. He didn't envy Warren and Remy who'd have to deal with this prejudiced youngster.

 

///

 

"Remy!" Scott quickly walked over to his brother, slightly alarmed by the expression in Remy's eyes. Something felt wrong. "Are you okay?" After exchanging a look with Warren, who nodded his approval, Scott pulled Remy aside. "Bobby, go talk to Warren. I need a moment alone with Remy," Scott instructed.

 

Bobby noticed Remy's paleness too and didn't object. He moved towards Warren who seemed to hold up pretty well. Warren was dressed in black, like Remy, but seemed in a better mental shape. "Warren," Bobby extended his hand. "I'm sorry about your brother."

 

Warren accepted and shook Bobby's hand, while keeping one eye on Remy and Scott. "Bobby, I didn't expect to see you and Scott here."

 

"Scott wanted to pay his respects and talk to Remy. Scott's worried." Bobby watched as a number of people he didn't know offered Warren their condolences, which his friend politely accepted.

 

Softly, Warren replied, "Remy's not doing that great. I wish I could keep him away from all this. He doesn't need it right now."

 

"That bad?" Surprised, Bobby looked Warren in the eyes. "Aren't you guys working out? I thought…"

 

"It's not about Remy and me. We're fine. It's his past. Remy… " Warren chose his words carefully, as Bobby didn't know about the Antiquary. "Remy suffered some abuse when he was a child."

 

"I didn't know that," Bobby admitted and watched Scott and Remy talk. Well, it was Scott who did most of the talking.

 

"Remy, are you sure you're all right?" Only now that he was up close, Scott noticed the beginning dark circles beneath Remy's eyes. "Are you getting enough sleep?"

 

Remy cursed privately. He'd always feared that he might have to tell Scott bits and pieces from his youth, but this wasn't the right time to make those revelations. But it didn't seem like Scott would stop asking questions soon. Remy quickly looked at Warren, his eyes begging his lover to give them some privacy.

 

Warren picked up on it. "Let's move over there." Bobby followed him, and so did the people who still wanted to offer their condolences. Scott and Remy stood alone and no one could eavesdrop on them. Warren continued to watch his lover.

 

"Scott?" Remy hesitantly placed his hand on his brother's arm to stop Scott from talking. "Need to tell y' somet'in'." Remy quickly made sure that no one was listening in and then continued. "Didn' live wit' Jean-Luc my entire chilehood."

 

Scott had grown quiet, seeing the serious expression on Remy's face. The black suit only stressed the Cajun's paleness. "Remy, what are you talking about?" He didn't know much about Remy's past, but he saw the pained look on his brother's face and prepared for the worst.

 

"Before Jean-Luc took me in I lived wit' an… evil man, who… hurt me." Admitting the truth would always be hard on Remy. "De memories came back to haunt me."

 

"Who is this bastard?" Scott hissed between gritted teeth. The thought that someone had hurt Remy when he'd been a child was unbearable. He was Remy's big brother and should have protected his sibling. It stung even more that he'd never known that Remy had suffered in his youth like that. None of this was in Gambit's file!

 

"He's…" Remy wondered how to phrase this. Had Daimon killed the Antiquary or was the old sorcerer still alive in Hell? "Out of y'r reach," he said eventually. "He paid for his cruelty," Remy assured Scott.

 

"Is there something, anything, I can do to help?" Scott desperately wanted to make things up to his brother.

 

"Means a lot to me dat y'r attendin' de funeral," Remy whispered. "It's good to see a familiar face in dis crowd."

 

"The service is about to start, love," Warren said after walking over to his lover. He claimed Remy's hand and rubbed his lover's knuckles. "Are you up to it? Otherwise Scott here can…"

 

"I can deal wit' it," Remy assured him and shook himself from his musings. He focused on the present and asked, "Did y' find Jason yet?"

 

Scott recognized the name. Jason was Samuel Worthington's son, the kid Remy and Warren were going to take care of. That wouldn't be easy on the two men, who had no experience with raising kids.

 

"Yes, and he didn't look too happy to see me. He's with Vincent." Warren had kept his distance so far, not wanting to cause a scene at his brother's funeral. He'd address Jason after their guests had departed.

 

"I still hate dat image inducer," Remy whispered. Warren appeared perfectly normal. The blue skin, which Remy found so exotic, was gone and the magnificent wings had vanished from sight.

 

Warren gently squeezed Remy's hand. "Let's get moving. We should try to find a place in the front of the church." Warren had wanted to make a remark similar to Remy's. His lover was wearing special contacts so the gold on black eyes wouldn't create a commotion. The brown eyes that stared back at him were completely out of place.

 

"Would you stay close to Remy?" Warren asked Scott and Bobby who were walking behind them.

 

"Of course," both men said simultaneously.

 

///

 

Jayce closely observed his uncle, who looked *surprisingly* human, but he knew better. He'd once seen his uncle in flight. Yes, Warren Worthington was a mutant. His eyes drifted to the man at his uncle side. //His lover!// Jayce thought, disgusted. //They're even holding hands in church!// Taking in Remy's appearance, Jayce felt slightly envious of the man's good looks, but then reminded himself that the man was gay. He had to be careful around them.

 

Warren squeezed Remy's hand and Jayce's eyes narrowed. His uncle could show Samuel Worthington some respect by not caressing his lover during this funeral! Enraged, he bit his lower lip and his hands turned into clenched fists.

 

Suddenly, his uncle's lover's eyes locked with his and Jayce defiantly glared back. //Don't try to play your mind games with me. I know what you are, faggot.// Jayce no longer paid any attention to the priest and simply stared hard at Remy. //You're just after his money. I bet you let uncle Warren fuck you each night! You get onto all fours and in return you live a life in luxury!//

 

At Saint Andrew's a steady amount of rumors always circulated the dorms. They were about senior students that hit on the younger and more vulnerable ones. He vividly remembered Carl, an 18 years old student, who was always there when the new kids arrived. Jayce shivered, remembering how Carl had seemingly judged the new boys, as if he were picking out his favorite meat at the buffet. Certain rumors refused to die. Most of them were about Carl, who had tried, and on some occasions succeeded, to molest the younger boys. Carl always prided himself on getting the younger kids to go along with his perversities and Jayce and his friends had decided to keep a close eye on the new kids when they arrived.

 

Jayce had stayed at Saint Andrew's during one of the shorter holidays. His dad had told him to stay at the school, as Sam would be in Europe most of the time. One late evening Jayce had felt like taking a shower before going to bed and he'd headed for the dorm's showers when he'd heard a shriek filled with terror. He'd started to run and soft whimpers had guided his way. When he'd reached the dressing room, he found that Carl had manoeuvred one of the new boys onto his hands and knees. Carl was rubbing the kid's ass and Jayce hadn't hesitated. He'd knocked Carl off his feet and they'd fought. Both had walked away with bruises and black eyes. After Carl had fled, Jayce had returned to the boy, who couldn't have been older than 11 and had tried to calm the kid down.

 

Later, he'd filed a complaint against Carl and had demanded that the dean looked into the matter. But Carl's dad was a wealthy politician and the man had used his connections to transfer Carl to another school. Later, Jayce had heard that the kid who had been assaulted had dropped all charges. When he'd asked the boy why, the kid had told him that Carl had threatened to finish what he'd started.

 

And so Jayce's distrust, even hatred of gays was born.

 

Remy fitted Jayce's profile of a gay who was playing mind games with a straight man. Remy also struck Jayce as an opportunist. Jayce didn't like this Remy one bit and was determined to open his uncle's eyes. Maybe that once the fag was out of the way, his uncle would return to dating girls and in that case, Jayce might reconsider living with Warren. His mind set, he broke eye contact with Remy and concentrated on the priest again.

 

///

 

Remy shivered and Warren glanced at his lover. He couldn't really speak up right now, as the priest had requested a moment of silence and he hoped that rubbing Remy's fingers would comfort his lover.

 

Remy quickly nodded his head to assure Warren that he was fine, but he wasn't. He'd raised his shields to keep out the emotions from the grieving crowd, but found himself unable to shut out one particular person; Jason.

 

Warren had pointed the boy out to Remy and he'd studied Jason ever since. The boy was about 5 foot 5 and had curly, fair hair. The brown eyes almost looked black. Jason was dressed in a black suit and sat obediently beside Vincent, but the kid's expression unnerved Remy. He sensed an immense amount of anger in the kid's mind. Anger that was mixed with sadness and a strange sense of solitude, which Remy couldn't figure out. Jason seemed alone in this gigantic crowd and Remy wondered what kind of father Samuel Worthington had been.

 

Jason's anger got to him and he almost felt nauseous. He raised his shields to the maximum and still that terrible anger clawed at his defenses. Remy suddenly felt very apprehensive. Jason would be around for a long time and he better get used to the kid's presence.

 

///

 

Finally, the priest told the bearers to carry the casket to its last resting place and the crowd stirred. Warren used that moment to check on his lover. "Remy? You're trembling!"

 

Remy told Warren a white lie. "It's deir emotions, cher. Too many people." He didn't want Warren to know that it was Jason who was making him this uncomfortable.

 

"I should have known." Warren chided himself for his thoughtfulness. The fragrance of lilies clung to Remy. Scott and Bobby gave Warren a concerned look, but Warren signaled them that everything was under control.

 

The crowd followed the priest and came to a stop when the casket was lowered into the earth.

 

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…" were the only words Remy caught, as he sensed Jason's eyes on him. The boy stood next to the grave, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. Remy almost bolted, feeling the hostility in Jason's mind. Why was it aimed at him?

 

///

 

"We should get acquainted with Jason," Warren said as the crowd left the graveside. Only Vincent, Jason, Scott, Warren and Remy remained behind.

 

Bobby left because he wanted to call Nick and he also realized that Scott could handle anything that came their way. //Remy and Scott are brothers. Scott's entitled to stay.//

 

"Cher… mebbe I should stay here and y' should talk to him first?"

 

"Remy? You've been trembling all through the funeral, what is it?" Concerned, Warren probed Remy's eyes. //You're keeping back.//

 

"I can keep an eye on Remy if you want to talk to Jason alone," Scott offered.

 

"No, let's do this now," Warren said determinedly and nudged Remy forward.

 

Remy took a deep breath and composed himself. With every step that brought him closer to Jason, the sinister feelings increased. He hoped he wouldn't throw up, as the anger sent his stomach into convulsions.

 

"Jason? Maybe you remember me? I'm your uncle, Warren." Warren extended his hand. "I'm sorry about your dad."

 

Jayce considered his next move carefully. He accepted Warren's hand and shook it. He refused to look at his uncle's lover. "Uncle Warren."

 

"Jason, this is Remy, my life partner." Warren held his breath, seeing the sudden loathing in the kid's eyes.

 

Remy offered Jason his hand as well, but the boy demonstratively crossed his arms in front of his chest, refusing the contact. Remy cringed, emotionally suffering as Jason's hate slammed into him. What had he done to deserve such anger?

 

Jayce simply ignored Remy and looked at Warren instead. "I demand you send me back to Saint Andrew's."

 

Privately, Scott seethed with anger. How did the kid dare to ignore Remy like that?

 

Warren felt torn between getting angry and feeling sorry for Jason. He didn't want to aggravate the situation now that they were still in public. He'd sort out this mess once they got home. "Why don't we discuss this later? I'm sure you need some time to deal with your father's death."

 

"I can do that at school," Jayce replied, formally. He refused to live with a gay couple. Maybe if he got Remy out of the picture? The man looked shocked; good.

 

"Remy and I discussed this and we would like you to stay with us for some time." Warren tried again, but a sinking feeling descended onto his stomach. Jason seemed stubborn and incredibly rude.

 

"Respectfully, uncle. I don't want to live with you." Jayce remained calm and in control.

 

"Why's that?" Warren wondered if he wanted to learn the answer. But it was too late. He'd asked the question.

 

"I refuse to live with you as long as… *he* is there too." Jayce cocked his head and pointed a finger at Remy. "You should know that he's only after your money, uncle."

 

Remy's heart thumped loudly, hearing those words. "Scott? Get me outta here," he whispered softly. He could no longer handle Jason's negative emotions.

 

"Sure, Remy. Come on, let's move." Scott pulled Remy along and they walked towards the car park where Warren's chauffeur was waiting to take them home.

 

"I told you to behave!" Vincent exploded suddenly. He'd waited until Remy was out of hearing range.

 

Warren stared at his nephew. "What's wrong with you? Remy's family!"

 

"Your family perhaps, but not mine. He's only after your money!" Jayce felt fairly confident that he'd succeed in tearing their relationship apart. However, he didn't know yet how far he could go with Warren and decided to be careful. "My dad always told me not to trust mutants and look at you. You're a mutant and gay! Guess my old man was right about you. Is *he* a mutant too?"

 

Warren barely managed to keep his anger in check. "I don't know what's going on with you, but I don't tolerate that kind of prejudiced behavior. You'll apologize to Remy the moment we get home…" Warren turned around to follow Remy, but then reconsidered. "And you're grounded for one week. No TV, no other privileges. You'll stay in your room."

 

"You're not my dad! You can't do that to me!" Infuriated, Jayce glared at Warren.

 

"You're right. I'm not your dad, but the judge made me your legal guardian and believe me, right now I wish he'd never made that decision." Warren looked at Vincent. "Do me one more favor? Make sure he gets to the ranch and accompany him to his room?" Vincent nodded and Warren added, "And later on, I wish to talk to you privately."

 

"Consider it done," Vincent replied and told Jayce to get moving.

 

Jayce shot Warren a dark, menacing glance. This wasn't over yet!

 

Part 7

 

Worried, Warren joined Scott and Remy in the parking lot. From the corner of his eye, he caught Jayce's stubborn expression as the boy protested Vincent's order to get into the car. Ignoring the kid for now, Warren headed for his lover.

 

Remy and Scott stood next to the car and Warren easily noticed the tremors that rocked Remy's body. Jason's rejection and rudeness had hit his lover hard. At times, the empathy must feel like a curse to Remy and Warren was glad he didn't have this particular gift. He wasn't sure he'd be able to deal with it.

 

Warren didn't understand why Jason had been so rude and obnoxious. He wanted to be really, *really* mad with the kid, but couldn't. Jason had just lost his father and probably felt lost and angry, taking it out on the people closest to him. But it was no excuse to treat Remy like that and he'd talk to the boy later. He didn't tolerate such behavior.

 

"Rem?" Warren observed his lover for a long moment and then wrapped one arm around the Cajun's waist. "I'm sorry, love. I don't know what got in to Jason."

 

Remy locked eyes with Warren. Scott's hand still rested on Remy's shoulder and it soothed him to have his brother close. Scott had calmed him down and managed to get him focused again. Without Scott's coaching Remy might have lost control over his emotions. "He's angry, cher. So angry."

 

"Yes, I realized that too. But why? Why is he so angry with you?"

 

Remy sighed. "Wish I knew, cher. Ain' a telepat', remember?" Remy felt secure as Scott gently squeezed his shoulder. Scott still surprised him. Remy'd had never really gotten to know Scott Summers and was eager to make up for it. He wanted to spend time with his brother, but now that Jason had appeared on the scene, that would have to wait.

 

"What are you doing to do? Jason will probably continue to verbally attack Remy," Scott remarked. "I might not be a parent, but I like to think I helped the professor raise some of the younger mutants. Jason's going to make it very hard on the two of you. Why don't you just send him back to school? That's what he wants and it'd solve your problems."

 

"I'm tempted to do just that," Warren admitted through gritted teeth.

 

"Non, cher," Remy objected. Now that the car with Jason in it was gaining distance his empathy no longer picked up the kid's anger and Remy released a choked breath. "He's hurtin' for a reason, ange. If we send him back, de anger will continue to grow. It'll poison his mind."

 

Warren shook his head. "Remy, we should send him back to Saint Andrew's." His first encounter with Jason had discouraged him. Warren wanted to focus on Remy's healing process and this little brat wasn't going to ruin things for them.

 

"Listen, cher," Remy said firmly and looked into Warren's eyes. "De chile just lost his fat'er and den discovers y've got a male lover. I can't blame him for freakin' out. Give him a chance."

 

"Remy, he blatantly ignored you, demanded you left!" Warren shook his head in disbelief. Why was his lover defending the brat?

 

"Ange," Remy whispered. He was in control of his emotions again, but kept his shields up. "He's angry and I'm an easy target. If y' let him get 'way wit' it, he'll pull dis on ot'er people too. Den he'll never learn. We've got to set him straight."

 

"One week," Warren said determinedly. "I'll give him one week. If he doesn't clean up his act, he's gone."

 

Remy nodded his head. "D'accord. He exchanged a glance with Scott, who looked at him questioningly. "Scott?" Remy congratulated himself on the fact that he no longer had the tendency to call his brother Cyke. It surprised him that Scott was so supportive and defensive. Remy still remembered the angry expression in Scott's eyes when he'd told his brother about the abuse he'd suffered.

 

"I hate to say this, but you're probably right, Remy. It looks like the boy needs a firm hand." Scott grew quiet briefly, but his hand didn't leave Remy's shoulder. He'd been able to help his brother and it felt good, but now… "I hate to say this even more, but Bobby and I've got to return to Westchester."

 

"I understand," Remy assured him, still surprised that Scott had turned up to attend the funeral. Scott seemed to take his brotherly obligations very seriously. "Merci for comin'," Remy said sincerely. "Didn' expect dat."

 

"Hey, I like to spend time with my baby brother," Scott teased warmly and patted Remy's shoulder before removing his hand. "Call or write? I'd love to stay in touch."

 

"I will," Remy promised and felt shy, as Scott moved away from them. "Feel like I never really knew him," he admitted to Warren.

 

"Scott's a good man, once you get to know him. He tends to shut people out," Warren replied. "I guess he lost too many people he cared about."

 

Remy got into the car and Warren joined him. As the chauffeur started the engine, Warren claimed Remy's hand. "This isn't going to be easy."

 

"I know dat, cher," Remy sighed. "Wish I knew why he hates me."

 

"Is that what you sensed? Hate?" Warren covered Remy's hands with his and rubbed them warm. They felt icy cold.

 

"Was aimed at me, oui, mais dere was somet'in' else too." Thoughtfully, Remy watched how Warren's fingers rubbed his skin. "He feels betrayed and 'lone.

 

Patiently, Warren waited for Remy to continue, but when his lover remained silent he asked, "And you can relate to that?" Oh, Remy was an open book to him! "Don't make the mistake of comparing yourself to him, Rem. Jason's a spoiled brat."

 

"Y' told me dat y'r brot'er wasn' really interested in de chile," Remy mused aloud. "Did Jason ever have a home?" He somehow doubted it. "Why is he dat eager to go back to school?" Remy returned the caress and rubbed the skin of Warren's hand.

 

Warren considered Remy's question carefully. His lover had made a valid point. "I always had the feeling that Sam kept Jason at a distance."

 

"Why?" Remy leaned back and snuggled closer to Warren, who reacted at once and kissed a lock of his auburn hair.

 

"Maggie died in childbirth and Sam loved his wife very much. I always felt that Sam never 'forgave' Jason for being the reason that Maggie died, that he blamed Jason for her death. Does that make sense?"

 

"Y're very observant, cher, and oui, it makes sense." Remy rested his head against Warren's shoulder. "If we're gonna try and help Jason we'll have to go all de way. Can y' do dat, cher? We can' dump him when he starts pushin' back."

 

"He's already pushing," Warren said, annoyed. "And pushing hard. I'm not sure I've got what it takes to straighten him out."

 

"Who else's gonna do it den, cher?" Remy looked at Warren and sighed blissfully. "Mais we need to do dis toget'er. He doesn' want me near y', y know dat, don' y'?" As long as they didn't let Jason push them apart, they'd be all right.

 

"This is going to be hard on you, Rem. Are you sure you can deal with it on top of… everything?" Concerned, Warren held Remy's gaze prisoner.

 

"I wouldn' have been here if it hadn' been for poppa, cher. We should give Jason a chance. De chile looks like he needs someone."

 

"You're much too good for this world, Rem," Warren whispered and brushed Remy's lips. "I'll try to deal with him. Try to stay out of it for now?"

 

"If dat's what y' want, cher." Remy gave in. "Mais don' shut me out."

 

"I'll never do that," Warren repeated the promise he'd already made a few times. He figured it was time to pique his lover's curiosity a little. "Don't you want to know where we're headed?"

 

"Mais oui, cher. We're are y' takin' me?" Remy played along, although his mind was still trying to figure out why Jason felt this incredible amount of animosity.

 

Warren grinned smugly. "Some years ago I bought Honeymoon Island. It was a state park originally, but now I've closed it down for visitors. I've got a ranch there and I planned on taking you there after our honeymoon."

 

Remy flashed a mischievous smirk. "Honeymoon Island, cher?"

 

"Hey, I *am* a romantic! I hope you don't get seasick. We'll have to take the boat to get there."

 

"Kinda secluded, cher?"

 

"Yes, I wanted to have you all to myself." Warren's grin darkened. "And I won't let Jason ruin it."

 

///

 

Jayce glared at the back of the chauffeur's head. He refused to look or talk to Vincent, who was sitting beside him. The lawyer radiated anger and Jayce wondered about his next move. Had he gone to far? Had he been wrong about Remy? No, the man had to be after Warren's money!

 

"You made one hell of a mistake, boy," Vincent sneered at last. He didn't know Jason that well, but he saw some cracks in the kid's mask. "Remy's a good person."

 

"He's a gold digger!" Jason stated vehemently.

 

"And how do you know that?" Vincent wondered if anyone would ever get through to the angry and stubborn boy.

 

"My dad never told me that Warren liked men. This *person* is playing mind games with my uncle and I won't allow it."

 

Vincent raised a puzzled eyebrow. Did the boy feel protective of Warren? Uncertain whether to laugh or cry, Vincent said, "Remy isn't a *gold digger*. He's quite wealthy."

 

"How do you know? Did he tell you that? Why doesn't he show you his cheque book?" Jayce drew in a deep breath. His arms stayed defensively crossed in front of his chest.

 

"I saw his accounts," Vincent told the kid. "And he doesn't need Warren's money." Warren and Remy had asked him to create a joined account and Remy had given him full access to his bank accounts.

 

That comment made Jayce look up. Okay, so maybe Remy wasn't after Warren's money, but there had to be some kind of hidden agenda. "Where are you taking me?" he asked curiously. He needed more information if he wanted to make plans.

 

"Honeymoon Island."

 

"A fuckin' island?"

 

"Don't use that word. I'd like to think you've got manners." Vincent was beginning to realize that Jayce wanted to throw him off balance by using that word. It just didn't seem right that a 15 years old boy used it that easily. "It's a beautiful place."

 

"I want to go back to Saint Andrew's," Jayce stated determinedly and bit his lip. He remained quiet during the rest of the ride.

 

///

 

Richmond

 

Logan dropped onto their bed and let himself fall backwards. They'd been on their bikes for hours and would only stay at this little motel for the night. "Cajun, sit down and get some rest." He watched Jean-Luc closely and wondered about the nervousness in his lover's gestures.

 

"What's wrong? Are ya still broodin' 'bout Remy?" He didn’t like seeing Jean-Luc in such a dark and gloomy mood. No matter how he tried to distract his lover, Jean-Luc returned to brooding.

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc admitted as he collapsed onto the bed next to Logan. "Can't shake de feeling dat something's wrong."

 

"Did he answer yer message?"

 

"He wrote dat everything was fine, mais I know Remy. He won't tell me if he feels it would burden me somehow." Jean-Luc stole a glance over at the laptop.

 

"Tell the kid that we're comin' to visit," Logan said firmly. "Ya need to convince yerself that he's okay." He dragged his tired body from the bed and collected the laptop, opened it and placed it on Jean-Luc's lap. "Ask him where they are and tell him to expect us to drop by. I refuse to sit here and watch ya go crazy over this."

 

Jean-Luc's fingertips hesitated to make contact with the keys. "It's deir honeymoon, Logan."

 

"I don't care and I'm sure Remy won't either once he knows yer drivin' yerself crazy over this." Relieved, Logan watched as Jean-Luc gave in and sent his son a message, asking Remy and Warren if it was okay if they visited shortly. "Feelin' better?" Logan inquired as Jean-Luc closed the laptop again.

 

"Oui, I think so." Jean-Luc released a deep sigh. He felt tired and emotionally drained.

 

"Want me to take yer mind off things?" Logan offered. He slipped into position behind Jean-Luc and began to knead his lover's tense shoulders.

 

"Feels good," Jean-Luc mumbled, relaxed. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully. Logan's hands worked their magic and he leaned back against his lover's chest.

 

Logan grinned wickedly. He knew a way to distract Jean-Luc and relax the man completely. "Wanna play?"

 

Jean-Luc chuckled softly. Those two words had quickly become an invitation to intimacy. "Mais oui." And for once he had no desire to take the lead or to top.

 

Logan sensed Jean-Luc's weariness and took charge. "Wanna play with the handcuffs?" They had only used them once and back then in Ireland, Jean-Luc had used them on him. Logan felt how shivers ran down Jean-Luc's spine. Letting go of control was still a big issue for Jean-Luc. "Will make it worth yer while," Logan promised and let his tongue slide up Jean-Luc's neck. "Just the thought of seeing ya tied down and at my mercy makes me hard, Cajun." Talking dirty had always worked before!

 

Jean-Luc gave Logan an appreciative grin. "Bring out de handcuffs, cher and *try* to tie me down."

 

Logan growled at the promise, which was also a threat. He'd win.

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Nicholas looked up from his book as his computer announced that a new message had arrived. He smiled and headed over to the computer. Hopefully, Bobby had sent him a message. 

 

After he sat down, he scrolled down and his eyes grew worried as he read the sender's addy. Sighing, he opened and read the message. He should have known that his employer would contact him in search of more information. Nicholas paused to formulate his answer.

 

#Monsieur,

 

There's little I can add to my last report. Rogue hasn't returned yet and no one seems to know her whereabouts. I'll inform you the moment they find out. Professor Xavier and Jean Grey are conducting an experiment, hoping to find her, but so far it's been fruitless.

 

There's only one thing worth mentioning. Scott Summers and Robert Drake left Westchester last night to attend the funeral of Warren Worthington's brother, but I suspect Remy already told you about that. From what I've heard, the judge awarded Warren custody of his nephew Jason.

 

Yours truly,

 

Nicholas D'Arcy #

 

He read his message over and sent it. Jean-Luc LeBeau was a hard man to please.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Let's go on board," Warren whispered and kept one arm wrapped around Remy's waist. "Keep your shields up, love."

 

Remy nodded his head once and hesitantly sought out Jason's form. Vincent and the boy had already boarded and frustration simmered from Jason's brown eyes. But the hatred had lessened and Remy sighed relieved. As long as he kept his shields raised to the maximum he could deal with it. "He looks lost, cher."

 

Warren bit his lip. He couldn't understand why Remy cared about the arrogant brat. As far as he was concerned, Jason could get his ass kicked back to Saint Andrew's. "What? Do you want to talk to him now?" Warren asked, as Remy moved towards the youngster. "He's not going to acknowledge you." A sinking feeling made his stomach contract nervously. He didn't want Remy to get hurt again.

 

"Non, cher, not talk."

 

Suddenly Warren realized Remy's intentions. The empath was trying to make sense of Jason's feelings. "And?" he asked as he joined his lover. Jason stood a few feet away from them and Warren whispered. "What do you sense?"

 

"Confusion, cher." Remy lifted his hand and smiled as Warren immediately claimed it. "We've got to find a way to get t'rough to him."

 

"You agreed to let *me* handle this, remember?" But Warren realized that Remy felt drawn to Jason for some obscure reason that he couldn't figure out. If the boy had treated him like Jason had Remy, he would ignore the youngster completely until he'd apologized. Warren exchanged a look with Vincent, who seemed equally worried. Warren tried to catch Jason's gaze and after several long minutes, he succeeded.

 

///

 

Jayce glared at them. His stomach did a somersault when he realized that his uncle was holding his male lover, radiating an extreme protectiveness. His conversation with Vincent had made him slightly less certain about Remy's intentions. He'd assumed that the man was after his uncle's money, but if what Vincent had told him was true, Remy didn't need Warren's money at all.

 

//It doesn't really matter,// he thought determinedly. //I'll make their lives hell, so they won't have a choice but send me back to Saint Andrew's.// The fact that Remy's eyes remained locked on his back began to unnerve Jayce. Why was the man looking at him like that?

 

///

 

"Cher? Do me a favor and switch off de image inducer?" Remy made sure that they were alone. Jason and Vincent stood near the railing and the crew was below deck. At the same time, Remy removed his contacts and put them safely away for future use.

 

"All right," Warren said, slightly confused. "Why?" Remy's brilliant smile stunned Warren, as he looked into gold on black eyes. "Don't wear those contacts ever again."

 

Remy's smile turned into a smirk as he lovingly took in those white wings and blue skin. "Je t'aime," he whispered softly and pressed a kiss on the back of Warren's hand. Then he waited for Jason to look at them again.

 

"What do you hope to accomplish?" Warren asked softly and caressed his lover's agile fingers. The fact that Jason hadn't lashed out again after the funeral made him feel hopeful.

 

"I want him to see us as we really are," Remy said slowly, as Jason peeked at them. The angry glare vanished and big eyes stared back at him. "Bien," Remy whispered pleased.

 

///

 

Jayce's eyes grew big and he momentarily forgot to breathe when he looked at his uncle and his lover. Yes, he'd seen Warren's wings before, but somehow they now seemed larger. And then there was this blue skin. He didn't remember that. When had his uncle gained that blue skin? Jayce shivered briefly. His uncle was a mutant all right! But what about his male lover?

 

As he stared into Remy's eyes, Jayce's breath escaped unintended. //He's got gold on black eyes! He's a mutant too!// Jayce expected Remy to be a mutant, but to see the proof was disconcerting. //Wonder what his mutant power is?// Suddenly, he felt extremely ill at ease. What if the man was a telepath? He'd heard about mind readers.

 

"I can't help it, but I think Warren's mutation is… special. I think it's beautiful."

 

Vincent's voice pulled Jayce away from his musings. He didn't have a smart-ass comeback right now. "I didn't know he had blue skin."

 

"That was sort of an accident," Vincent said hesitantly. He didn't know all the details. Carefully, he monitored Jayce's reactions. The kid's mask was showing cracks all right.

 

"What about *him*?" Jayce still refused to address Remy properly.

 

"Remy?" Vincent smiled. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

 

"I don't talk to faggots."

 

Vincent sighed, disappointed. He'd thought that they were making progress. "In that case you shouldn't talk to Warren either."

 

Hearing that statement, Jayce remained quiet. It was different with Warren, who was family; the only family he had left. His thoughts returned to Remy. No way he'd walk up to the mutant to ask him about his 'gifts'. As far as he was concerned, Remy didn't exist.

 

///

 

"Bien?" Warren repeated. "What's bien?"

 

"He's startin' to doubt. We need to be patient, cher," Remy said, pleased. "Love de way y' look now. Do y' have to switch de image inducer back on?"

 

"I don't think so. Vincent knows what I look like and Jason had better get used to it." Warren wrapped his other arm around Remy's shoulder too and pulled his lover close to his chest. "How can you stand feeling his hate?"

 

"Doubt he hates *me*," Remy clarified. "He hates life, which seems terribly unfair right now. He just lost his père and doesn' want to live wit' us."

 

Warren rested his chin on Remy's shoulder. The Cajun would always be his salvation, his strength. "I love you, Rem."

 

///

 

Jayce sulked the entire way to the ranch. The jeeps easily mastered the rough terrain and Jayce tried hard not to bounce around in his seat. Although he was tightly strapped in, he didn't feel safe. His dad had died in the car crash and this reminded him of the way the car had been catapulted over the road. He'd been so terrified.

 

His father hadn't been dead on impact, but had suffered for some time, hanging in the seatbelt. Jayce, who'd sat in the passenger's seat, had stared in horror as blood flowed from his dad's mouth and ears. Even now, remnants of terror tried to make him panic.

 

///

 

In the second jeep, Remy's head jerked up. Jason's emotions were growing darker, gloomier and Remy sensed the panic beneath the surface. "He's scared, cher."

 

Warren looked up. He'd been staring out of the window. "Who? Jason?"

 

"Yes, didn' y' tell me dat his père died in a car crash?" Remy locked eyes with Warren.

 

"Shit," Warren cursed softly. "But he didn't mind being in a car during the first stretch."

 

"De road's bumpy now, cher. Don' y' wonder what it was like for Jason, locked up in dat car?"

 

"Do I need to tell the chauffeurs to stop?"

 

"Non, he won' lose it. He's just scared." Remy reassuringly squeezed Warren's hand. "We're getting' t'rough to him, cher. We can' give up."

 

"If it means that much to you, Rem, I'll try… hard."

 

///

 

"Wolvie!" Remy chuckled, as the canine leapt towards him. The wolf knocked him off his feet in excitement and a long, wet tongue slithered across his face. "Calm down, Wolvie," Remy whispered, taken aback. The animal's relief at seeing him again was overwhelming. Until now he'd never realized just how much the canine had grown attached to him. Remy let the wonderful wave of emotions wash over him. "Missed y' too."

 

Warren stood behind his lover and grinned broadly. "Someone's glad to see you, Rem." His heart leapt happily as Wolvie continued to wet his lover's face with long swipes of his tongue. "I hope he doesn't plan to greet me in a similar way." Wolvie hadn't even acknowledged him yet. The canine was way too busy licking and nuzzling Remy.

 

"Wolvie, calm down!" Remy repeated, as two large front paws settled down on his chest, pressing him down onto the earth. Luckily, the soft grass had cushioned his fall.

 

They'd made arrangements when they'd still been in Venice for Wolvie to go straight to the ranch. Neither of them had judged it wise to take the canine along to the funeral.

 

"Do y' like it here. Wolvie? Plenty of animals to chase after, mais y'll behave, won' y'?" Remy managed to push Wolvie off and with Warren's help he got back to his feet. Wolvie however, tried to level him again. "Bad Wolvie!"

 

Suddenly, Remy looked over his shoulder and saw that Jason had halted in his tracks. For the first time since they'd met, the boy seemed to acknowledge his presence. Warren was about to speak up, but Remy signaled his lover to let him do the talking instead. "What is it, petit?"

 

"But that's a…" Jayce stuttered, taking some steps away from the canine.

 

Remy was thrilled that Jayce no longer ignored him. He'd use the boy's curiosity to establish some sort of contact. "It's a loup, oui."

 

"It is a *wolf*!" Jayce exclaimed, quickly translating the word. It was the first time he felt glad he'd taken some French classes. "What's it doing here?" The wolf suddenly seemed to notice him and Jayce froze. The canine had been friendly towards Remy, but how would it act towards him?

 

Warren silently watched the exchange and felt thrilled. Trust Remy and Wolvie to find a way into the boy's heart!

 

Remy saw his chance and focused on Wolvie. He couldn't telepathically tell Wolvie to let Jason pet him, but Remy could try to influence the canine. Empathy certainly had its limitations. //Plaît, Wolvie, de petit needs someone.//

 

Jayce felt fascinated and terrified as the wolf began to sneak towards him. "Shouldn't you keep him on a leash or something? Is he dangerous?" Jayce failed to stop himself from rambling. "Because if he is, I think…" He grew quiet as the wolf pushed his head beneath Jayce's hand.

 

"He wants to be pet," Remy explained and felt how Warren's hand came to rest at the small of his back. "Y' don' have to be 'fraid of him. Wolvie's a friend."

 

"Wolvie?" Jayce carefully petted the canine's head and although he was determined to continue to hate Remy, he couldn’t help addressing the man. "Why did you give him that name?"

 

"It's a long story, petit," Remy replied and thought of Logan and Jean-Luc. He hoped they were happy.

 

"His fur feels softer than I thought." Cautiously, Jayce sat on his heels and stroked the canine's flank. "How did you tame him?"

 

"I didn'. Wolvie wants to stay wit' us. He can leave whenever he wants," Remy explained and sighed relieved. Yes, things would work out eventually. It'd just take a lot of time and effort. "Wolvie can keep y' company while y'r here," Remy suggested. "Mais mebbe y' want to see y'r room now?"

 

Warren gestured to one of the maids. "Take him to his room." The girl nodded and went to pick up Jayce's traveling pack, but Vincent was quicker.

 

Vincent smiled, pleased that Remy had found a way to make contact with the boy. "Come on, kid, let's get moving."

 

"Can I take him along?" Jayce asked and suddenly realized he'd been talking to Remy the entire time. How had that happened? He loathed the man! He had to pay attention to what he was doing! Jayce was about to walk away from the canine without waiting for Remy's answer, when the wolf tightly grabbed his jacket with his sharp teeth. "What?"

 

"Wolvie doesn' want to be left 'lone," Remy chuckled. "Go on, Wolvie, it's bien." He sensed the wolf's inner struggle. Remy had just returned and the canine didn't want to leave him so soon. //Mais Jason needs y' more, Wolvie.//

 

The canine seemed to nod his head and then dragged Jayce after him, using the boy's jacket to pull him along.

 

"Hey!" Jayce sputtered as the wolf pulled. He considered shrugging out of his jacket, but no, he liked the stubborn wolf!

 

Remy and Warren watched them leave. "Maybe you're right, Rem. Maybe we can get through to him. You're right. We can't give up on him."

 

"De petit reminds me of someone," Remy said wickedly as he took hold of Warren's arms, which he wrapped around himself.

 

"Rem?" Confused, Warren peeked at his lover's eyes.

 

"Reminds me of one stubborn and arrogant playboy I used to know." He turned around and brushed Warren's lips with his. "Mais y' changed. Y're no longer like dat."

 

"Well, maybe there's hope for Jason's yet," Warren mumbled mesmerized as he stared in Remy's eyes. "Want to check out our room? You look tired, maybe you want to lie down a bit?"

 

"Keepin' de shields up tires me," Remy explained in a soft tone and fell into step beside Warren as his lover led him through the corridors. Eventually, Warren halted when they'd reached a mahogany door.

 

"Close your eyes," Warren softly instructed and turned the key. However, he didn't open the door yet. "Please, close your eyes, love."

 

Remy was tempted to ask why, but sensed Warren's sincere desire to please him. So he closed his eyes and waited. He heard how the door opened and he barely kept back from peeking through his eyelids, but Warren wanted him to keep his eyes closed, so he did. "What are y' doin', cher?" Remy whispered and was surprised to feel one arm slide beneath his knees and the other around his back. "Ange?"

 

"Shst," Warren chided him affectionately and lifted Remy in his arms. "I'm going to carry you over the threshold, love."

 

Remy thought he'd misheard. "Over de t'reshold?"

 

"We got married and I want this to be our home, so... I'm a traditional guy, sue me!" Warren pressed Remy close to his chest and carried him inside. "You can open your eyes again, Rem."

 

Feeling incredibly nervous, Remy slowly opened his eyes. He'd never imagined that Warren would want to carry him over the threshold. Warren was such a romantic and it made his heart beat faster.

 

"What do you think, love?" Warren waited impatiently. He hoped Remy liked the interior and…

 

"De bed, cher!"

 

"Yeah, I picked it myself."

 

"When?" In genuine delight, Remy stared at the big, wooden four-poster bed. It had a canopy made of blue silk, with embroided silver stars and a crescent. "Oh, cher."

 

Warren placed Remy in the center of the bed and lay down beside him. "I love the canopy," Warren said as he stared at the midnight sky above them.

 

His raging emotions made it hard for Remy to reply. He elbowed himself into an upright position and locked eyes with Warren. "Feels like I'm flyin' in y'r arms when I'm in dis bed. Sky's so close."

 

"So you like it?" Warren asked, slightly relieved.

 

"Love it, cher." Remy leaned in closer and gently kissed his lover's lips.

 

"Then we're finally home, Rem. I plan on growing old here with you." Warren noticed the tears that unexpectedly left Remy's eyes. "What's wrong, love?

 

"I'm just so happy, cher. Never been dis happy. *Y'* make me happy."

 

Warren balanced one of Remy's teardrops on the tip of his finger and then licked it off. "These are tears of happiness then?"

 

"Oh oui, cher, dey are." Remy firmly nodded his head. "Dis is home."

 

Part 8

 

Westchester

 

Bobby had used the key that Nicholas had given him to enter his lover's apartment. "Nicholas? Sorry that I'm late, but…" Bobby apologized, as he stepped into the bedroom. It was way passed midnight and Nicholas had already gone to bed. Bobby smiled at his lover, who seemed deeply asleep. The one thing he absolutely loved about Nicholas was his lover's tendency to sleep naked. It was rather warm inside the bedroom and Nicholas had kicked off the sheets during his sleep. A gorgeous, lean, agile body lay in the center of the bed and seemed to beg Bobby to caress it. Licking his lips, Bobby stole closer and sat down on the side of the bed.

 

Last week they'd made love for the first time. Nicholas had taken him, claimed him, and Bobby still blushed, remembering his outcries of passion when Nicholas had entered him. The next evening, they'd reversed roles and Bobby had buried himself inside Nicholas' warm body. Now, one week later, he still quavered, as he remembered the sensations that he'd felt when Nicholas' tight passage had massaged him, making him come. Making love to a girl had never felt that good.

 

Bobby leaned in closer and involuntarily his breath caught. His eyes drifted down the perfect back and came to rest on the two tempting mounds of flesh. Nicholas had fallen asleep on his stomach and Bobby wished he could run his hands over his lover's buttocks again. He vividly remembered how soft and inviting Nicholas' skin had felt beneath his fingertips. But it didn't feel right to take advantage of his lover like this. Nicholas was asleep after all. //But a few caresses won't do any harm.// Bobby crept closer to his lover and let the tip of his tongue tease Nicholas' earlobe. Softly, he began to nibble on it. //Damn, this is a mistake!// Touching Nicholas like this was making him hard!

 

"Bobby?"

 

Nicholas' sleepy voice shook Bobby from his guilty feelings and he pressed kisses on the back of his lover's neck after easing back the dark locks. "Yeah, it's me, love. Sorry that it took me so long to get back to you."

 

"I'm sure your friends appreciated it that you attended the funeral," Nicholas mumbled. He'd heard Bobby enter the apartment, but had feigned sleep. "How are Warren and…?" He pretended to have forgotten Remy's name.

 

"Warren and Remy are doing as well as can be expected." Bobby wondered why Nicholas wasn't sitting up, facing him. Was it a hint that Nicholas wanted Bobby to continue the caresses? Boldly, he let his fingertips slide down his lover's back. "Missed you."

 

"I missed you too, darling," Nicholas mumbled and cocked his head so he could lock eyes with Bobby. "That feels good." He'd never expected to fall in love with the Iceman, but the attraction had been there from the start.

 

"Want me to keep on going?" Bobby failed to keep his desire out of his voice. "You look like…"

 

"What, darling?" Nicholas smiled invitingly. Bobby was the most attentive lover he'd ever had and it was probably due to the fact that the X-man was new to this kind of love. Bobby's first time had been with Nicholas and his lover had certainly surprised him. The gentleness and consideration had been a giant turn on for Nicholas. "I want you to take me," he murmured softly.

 

"Oh God, I want that too, love," Bobby was tempted to turn Nicholas onto his back, but then he'd lose the stunning sight of his lover's backside. "But it's already late and you've got classes tomorrow and…"

 

"Do me, Bobby, please." Nicholas couldn't remember begging a lover to claim him before.

 

"I'm a little surprised," Bobby admitted as his hands kneaded his lover's ass cheeks. "I figured you'd want to top."

 

"Bobby," Nicholas gasped briefly as one of Bobby's fingers slipped into his cleft, teasing his puckered entrance. "Oh, but you last *so* long!" Discovering that Bobby could go on forever had made being on the bottom much more pleasurable. Some of his former lovers had come too quickly, leaving him behind, but not Bobby. "Do me quick and hard."

 

Bobby grinned. He'd already noticed that Nicholas liked it hard and fast. He didn't know how he felt about that. He liked to take his time to make love, but Nicholas was convincing him quickly. "Do you have condoms and lube?"

 

"Oh yes," Nicholas whimpered, as Bobby's finger teased against his entrance. "I love you, Bobby," he whispered, as his lover pulled back his finger to lubricate it. "Under the pillow," Nicholas informed his lover and watched how Bobby retrieved the necessary items. Bobby had expressed fear that he would unintentionally hurt Nicholas while they had anal sex and insisted they'd use every precaution in the book, which meant a generous amount of lube and special condoms. "Hurry!"

 

Bobby kept one hand on his lover's buttocks and continued to massage the soft flesh, as he spread the lube over his fingers. "Gonna prepare you first, love."

 

"Don't need it," Nicholas panted and rubbed his erection against the sheets.

 

"What about doing it doggie style?" Bobby suggested. "You'd have to get up to your hands and…" He hadn't even finished the question when Nicholas raised himself on all fours, wiggling his ass. "I take it that's a yes?"

 

"Oh, yeah!" Nicholas grabbed the head board firmly and arched his back. "Fuck me." He'd never made a secret of his desires and believed in telling his lovers what he wanted. He loved sex; it was as simple as that.

 

"Lemme prepare you first, okay?" Bobby circled the little pucker and gently pushed inside. His finger easily slid passed the guardian muscle and nestled deeply inside his lover's hot passage. "You feel so good, babe."

 

"More!" Nicholas pushed back, urging Bobby to move. "Fuck me silly!"

 

Bobby hesitated. Although Nicholas seemed terribly relaxed, he didn't want to run the risk of hurting him. "Two," he announced and his index finger crept inside too. "Are you still okay?"

 

Nicholas threw back his head, looked over his shoulder and whispered, "How much longer do you want me to beg? Hard and fast… please, lover." Bobby's fingers stretched him, scissoring inside his passage. "I'm going to come if you keep this up and I want you inside."

 

Bobby gave in and nodded his head. "Alright, love." He removed his fingers from Nicholas' slippery entrance and unbuckled his belt.

 

"Don't take off your clothes," Nicholas instructed. He was tempted to steal one hand to his groin and stroke himself to completion, as the tension was becoming unbearable.

 

"You like it that way?" Bobby asked, a little surprised. Nicholas was turning out to be one hell of a lover, who continued to surprise him. Bobby unzipped his jeans and pushed them down. His proud cock bobbed free.

 

Nicholas licked his lips. "Want to taste you."

 

"Not now," Bobby said firmly. "Or don't you want to be fucked silly?" He gave Nicholas a mischievous smirk and kneeled behind his lover. Bobby released a strangled breath when Nicholas' hands released the head board to claw in the pillow.

 

Nicholas leaned forward, presenting himself to his lover and rested his head on his forearms. "Fuck me."

 

Bobby couldn't ignore the urgent plea and slipped on the lubricated condom. "Are you ready?"

 

"Yes," Nicholas raised his ass a little further in invitation. The next minutes would be a mix of pain and intense pleasure. No matter how relaxed he was, Bobby entering him would hurt.

 

Bobby's fingers were curled around his cock, holding the condom in place. He used his other hand to spread Nicholas ass cheeks and then positioned his erection at his lover's puckered opening. "Love you, Nicholas."

 

Nicholas felt the blunt head of Bobby's cock and tried to relax. He bit his lip as Bobby pushed his way inside. "Oh, fuck," he panted as Bobby's cock pushed passed the tight ring of muscle. Bobby was inside him, but barely.

 

Bobby's right hand massaged the small of Nicholas' back. "Can't believe you're letting me do this, *again*!" A velvet tightness surrounded his cock and he was tempted to push further inside, but realized that his lover needed time to adjust to the invasion. "Stroke yourself, love."

 

"Can't," Nicholas gasped. He'd collapse if he couldn't lean on his arms. "I want you inside… completely. Come on, Bobby, push!"

 

Bobby looked down and a surge of passion swept through him at the sight of his cock disappearing into his lover's body. "You asked for it, love," he reminded his lover and pushed harder, opening Nicholas up.

 

"Oh, God," Nicholas panted hard as Bobby slid deeper inside. He tried not to breathe too deeply. Bobby was big and they'd go at it for long minutes. He had to save his strength.

 

"I'm inside," Bobby whispered, stunned. He was buried to the hilt in Nicholas' body. "Babe?"

 

"I'm okay, but I might kill you if you don't start fucking me, Drake!" Nicholas tried to rub the head of his cock against the sheets, desperate to get some stimulation. Bobby's first thrust took his breath away. "Fuck…"

 

"You like it when I fuck you, don't you, babe?" Bobby whispered passionately as he set up a slow and gentle rhythm. He'd make this last.

 

"Yeah," Nicholas rasped as he pushed back hard. "Oh, God." The friction inside his body was overwhelming and his cock began to leak pre-ejaculate. His erection had faded a little when Bobby had forced his way inside, but his hard shaft was throbbing again. Then Bobby stopped moving. "No," Nicholas moaned. "Don't."

 

"I wanna savor this," Bobby announced. For some reason his eyes where locked on that little hole and his cock that had buried himself inside. "You're gorgeous." He kept perfectly still. Bobby's heart beat frantically and picked up speed when Nicholas moved of his own accord, pushing back, rocking forward.

 

Nicholas couldn't take much more. "Please," he begged, desperate for Bobby to start thrusting again.

 

"Come here, babe," Bobby whispered and wrapped one arm around his lover's shoulder. "This should feel even better." He pulled Nicholas close to his chest and supported his lover.

 

"Bobby." Nicholas whispered the name. The new angle enabled Bobby to thrust against his prostate and Nicholas moaned deliriously.

 

"Fuck yourself," Bobby whispered. Until a few weeks ago he'd never imagined it possible that he could let go like this, but Nicholas was quickly teaching him that there shouldn't be any holding back in bed.

 

"Yes!" Nicholas placed his hands on Bobby's arm and rode his lover. The perpetual movement of falling and rising was quickly becoming his entire world. "Don't come yet," he begged Bobby. He wanted to come first and clench his lover's cock to completion.

 

"Don't come yet," Bobby whispered in return. He'd last a little longer and playfully bit Nicholas' neck. "How about this?"

 

"Uh?" Nicholas felt Bobby shift beneath him and suddenly he was squatting on top of Bobby. "What?" Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Bobby had lain down.

 

Bobby smiled hungrily. "Set your pace, baby," he encouraged Nicholas and watched as his lover impaled himself over and over again. "Beautiful," he whispered passionately.

 

"Make me come." Nicholas didn’t know why he lasted this long. It only seemed to happen when Bobby was inside him.

 

"Sure, baby." Bobby grabbed his lover's waist and pushed Nicholas onto his side. Spooned up closely behind Nicholas, he began to thrust again. His hand reached across his lover's belly. "Hard or slow?"

 

"Hard," Nicholas moaned as his fingernails dug into the sheets. Bobby fisted him hard and fast, in the same rhythm as his thrusts and Nicholas felt orgasm approach. "Bobby," he whimpered and came in his lover's hand.

 

Bobby couldn't control his thrusts any longer and they grew wild. As he buried himself completely inside his lover's spasming passage, he came hard. "You're mine," he whispered passionately.

 

Nicholas shook fiercely as Bobby's come marked him as his lover's. "So good," he whispered, sated. Bobby was still buried inside him and he cherished the connection. "Stay inside as long as you can?"

 

"You'll be sore," Bobby warned him.

 

"I don’t care."

 

"Just one more minute and then I'm going to pull out." Bobby cuddled his lover closer. "You're incredible."

 

Nicholas giggled softly. "So are you! I've never known anyone who can keep going for that long!" He pushed back, hoping to keep Bobby's softening cock prisoner a little longer.

 

"I'm gonna pull out, love," Bobby announced. "I'll be careful." When Nicholas had made love to him, pulling out had been the only thing that had really hurt.

 

"I'm ready." But Nicholas bit his lower lip until it bled as Bobby pulled out.

 

Bobby noticed Nicholas' flinch and rolled his lover onto his back. He quickly disposed of the condom and then focused on Nicholas again. "Lemme check." Nicholas had done this too the first time they'd made love. "Spread them," he instructed teasingly.

 

Fatigued, Nicholas opened his legs and allowed Bobby to check for any tearing.

 

"Damn, I hurt you," Bobby whispered upset as he found some blood. "Don't move!" They'd bought condoms, lube and some soothing salve. The man who'd advised them in the store had insisted they took the salve as well, just in case. Bobby felt thankful now. "Lemme get in there again."

 

"Bobby, I'm fine," Nicholas whispered, drained. "I'll be a little sore, that's it."

 

"Don't tell me you're fine when I just made you bleed, Nicholas." After squeezing some salve onto his finger he gently worked it into the abused passage. The anus simply wasn't made to be penetrated like that. "Better?" Bobby inquired after applying the salve.

 

"Yeah, come here, darling." Nicholas pulled Bobby on top of him and made sure his lover was settled comfortably between his thighs. "You're a very special man, Bobby Drake."

 

"You're the first to say that," Bobby whispered, taken aback. "The girls I was with… I couldn't get it up and…"

 

"Hey," Nicholas whispered and brushed Bobby's lips. "You don't like girls that way, remember?" He hoped that his attempt at humor would succeed.

 

Bobby chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know *now*!" Bobby pushed some stray locks behind Nicholas' ear. "Can I stay the night?" Originally, he'd only planned to kiss Nicholas goodnight.

 

"Yes, you can stay because you fucked me silly," Nicholas teased warmly. "But I think I'll clean up first and your hand is covered in come."

 

"Stay here." Bobby moved quickly and retrieved a damp towel from the bathroom. He cleaned them up and then settled down again. Nicholas shivered beneath him and Bobby pulled up the comforter. "Let's try to sleep?"

 

Nicholas nodded his head. Bobby was spread comfortably on top of his body and Nicholas sighed as Bobby pressed him down. Nicholas decided that he liked that particular sensation. "Sleep tight, darling."

 

"Sweet dreams," Bobby whispered and kissed his lover goodnight. "God, I love you so much," he added as Nicholas drifted off into sleep.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

Warren fondly looked at Remy, who'd fallen asleep on the big four- poster bed. He'd suspected that the funeral had tired Remy, as the empath had been forced to keep his shields up all the time. And later on, the confrontation with Jayce had exhausted Remy as well. Remy lay cuddled up to him. The Cajun had made himself comfortable in his arms and Warren loved holding him. "My sweet angel," he whispered softly now that Remy couldn't hear him. In Remy's eyes, Warren would always be 'ange', but Warren felt similar about his lover, whose soul was half angelic.

 

He should get to his feet and seek out Jason. The boy still hadn't apologized to Remy and that worried Warren. He hoped that Jason would give in. If not, it meant that the youngster was determined to defy and challenge him.

 

Remy stirred in his arms and Warren used the opportunity to slip away from his lover. Warren gently pushed a pillow into Remy's arms and his lover immediately pulled it close and clutched it to his chest. After tucking the comforter in around Remy's body, Warren whispered, "I'll be back soon, promise." Remy didn't react and Warren sneaked out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.

 

Determinedly, he turned into the next corridor and headed for Jason's room. They'd have a good talk and Warren was resolved not to take any crap from his nephew.

 

///

 

Warren knocked on the door, announcing his presence. "Jason? I want to talk to you."

 

"Go away!"

 

Irritated, Warren raised an eyebrow. "I'm coming inside."

 

"NO!"

 

Warren ignored Jason's protest, opened the door and froze in his tracks. He'd expected to find Jason angry, but not crying.

 

Jayce quickly wiped the tears from his eyes. "I didn't say you could come inside."

 

Warren waved away the protest. "Why are you crying, Jason?"

 

"It's Jayce! Not Jason!"

 

"All right," Warren mumbled thoughtfully and approached the bed. The youngster pushed himself into a sitting position and faced him. "What's going on?" His eyes sought out Wolvie who lay on the foot end of the bed. The canine seemed sad.

 

"Leave me alone," Jayce repeated stubbornly. He didn't want Warren to see him crying.

 

"Jason… Jayce, come on, talk to me. I *am* your uncle, you know." Resolved, Warren straddled the chair beside the bed. "There's got to be a reason why you're crying. Is it because of your father's death?"

 

Jayce hated himself for mumbling, "Yes." This was *his* pain and Warren should leave him alone with it. He'd been dozing off with Wolvie close, keeping him warm when the image of his father, dying in the car, had startled him fully awake again.

 

"Want to tell me about it?" Warren knew he had to handle this carefully and forced down the anger he'd felt only moments ago. The boy obviously needed something from him, even though Jayce was too stubborn to admit that. "You saw your dad die, didn't you?"

 

"He c-c-couldn't unb-b-buckle the s-s-seatbelt," Jayce stuttered. "He h-h-hung upside down in the c-c-car and I couldn't h-h-help him." Tears threatened to leave his eyes again, but he forced them back. It was bad enough that Warren saw him this vulnerable.

 

"Jayce," Warren said compassionately and he rested his right hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to see that. It must have been awful."

 

"You c-c-can't know what it was l-l-like!" Jayce stammered, slightly angered.

 

"You're wrong. I do know what it's like. I saw friends die and couldn't do a damn thing about it. I know it hurts." Warren suddenly realized something important. "And it makes you angry, doesn't it? The fact that you couldn't help him. It sure as hell made me angry that I couldn't stop it."

 

Jayce didn't want to listen, but Warren sounded sincere. Subconsciously, he reached out and petted Wolvie's head. "I can't seem to get the images out of my h-h-head," he admitted.

 

"Working through trauma like that takes time. Believe me." As Warren looked at Jayce again, he saw the vulnerability in those brown eyes. "You don't have to work through it on your own. Remy and I…"

 

Indignant, Jayce glared at Warren.

 

"Why? Why do you hate Remy that much?" Warren had to know. He understood that the boy was angry, but why aim it at Remy? "He never harmed you. You barely know him!"

 

"He's a faggot!" Jayce didn't really know why he wanted to hurt Warren intentionally, he just did.

 

Warren tensed. "Say that word one more time and you'll regret it, Jason Worthington!"

 

"Why? Isn't it the truth?" Jayce remained rebellious.

 

"Why does his sexual preference matter? You don't seem to have a problem with me being gay?" Warren really didn't understand the kid and was losing his patience.

 

"I hate gays," Jayce said in a trembling tone.

 

"So you hate me too?"

 

"You're family," Jayce protested, but realized that his reasoning was crooked.

 

"Remy's family too." Warren considered his next move. "Why do you hate gays?" he repeated his question. There had to be a reason why!

 

Jayce suddenly blurted out, "Because I walked in on one who was sexually assaulting one of the younger students! I don't trust them!"

 

"You witnessed an attempted rape?" Warren said, stunned.

 

"Carl was notorious for his behavior and the smaller boys couldn't fight him off."

 

"What did you do when you walked in on them?" Warren wasn't sure how to handle this. Having witnessed a sexual assault would explain Jayce's behavior.

 

"I kicked his butt." Proudly, Jayce locked eyes with Warren. "I couldn't stand there and watch it happen."

 

Warren's brain worked things out quickly. "And now you think Remy's like Carl and abusing me?"

 

"Your trust. He's abusing your trust. He's got to have some secret agenda. You should dump or divorce him, whatever you need to do to get rid of him. He'll hurt you."

 

Jayce's determined tone stunned Warren. "Oh, my God. You've got it all wrong." Warren didn't know how much he could tell Jayce. Remy himself had to tell Jayce the truth. "Remy's not an abuser," Warren said eventually. "Give him a fair chance? He wants to help you."

 

Suspiciously, Jayce moved away from Warren and rested his back against the head board. "Help me? Yeah, right!"

 

Warren got to his feet. "Listen up. During dinner, you *will* apologize to Remy for your behavior. You won't use the word faggot again while you live in this house and you'll treat Remy respectfully. Got it?"

 

"Am I still grounded?" Jayce didn't avert his eyes, as Warren's locked with his.

 

"Yes, you are, for one week." Warren headed for the doorway. "I suggest you try to get to know Remy."

 

"I don't want to," Jayce said arrogantly. "I'll be back at Saint Andrew's shortly."

 

"I'm really trying to understand you, Jason," Warren said honestly. "But I don't get it. Remy and I are offering you a permanent home in case you hadn't noticed."

 

"Only until you get fed up with me."

 

"What?" Warren halted in his tracks and looked at Jayce. "Why would you think that?"

 

"My dad always grew quickly tired of me," Jayce said and shrugged his shoulders. "Why would it be any different with you?"

 

"Did he ever give you a sense of… home? Of belonging?" Warren suddenly found himself holding pieces of the puzzle and Jayce's behavior started to make sense. The boy felt unwanted, unloved and was protecting himself the only way he could.

 

"I was hardly ever allowed to come *home*," Jayce replied and his tone sounded sarcastically when he pronounced the last word of his sentence. "He was too busy to spend time with me."

 

Warren remembered something Remy had said, that Sam had given his son a lot of material things, but hardly any love. "Dinner will be served in one hour," Warren said and straightened his shoulders. "I want you on your best behavior."

 

Jayce remained quiet, but his fingers still stroked the canine's fur.

 

Warren walked into the corridor and closed the door behind him. Jayce was full of conflicting emotions; anger, sadness, fear, loneliness. //Remy's an empath, maybe he can… no, Remy's still dealing with his own trauma and can't handle Jayce's pain. I have to deal with this myself.//

TBC


	6. Hold Fast That Which Is Good.

///

 

When he returned to their rooms 30 minutes later, Warren found Remy seated behind the computer. His lover looked rested, but Warren didn't allow himself to be fooled by Remy's outer appearance. The empath had to pick up on Jayce's emotions. "Hello, love," Warren greeted Remy and stopped when he stood behind his lover. Very slowly, he wrapped his arms around Remy, remembering that sudden skin contact could trigger memories. "What are you doing?"

 

"Writin' poppa back. He wants to visit. I told him he could." Uncertain, Remy looked up at Warren. "I hope y' don' mind? Or do y' want me to…"

 

Warren silenced Remy with a soft kiss. "I'd love for them to visit. Give them our location, love?" Warren released Remy and walked towards the bed. He lay down and stared at the canopy. "I talked to Jayce."

 

Remy sent the message and then joined his lover. "He's upset. I've been pickin' up rough emotions."

 

"He told me why he hates gays," Warren announced and claimed Remy's left hand, which he caressed tenderly. "He witnessed a younger boy being sexually assaulted. Jayce thinks you're doing the same thing to me."

 

Remy's eyes grew sad. "Explains it, cher, doesn' it?" Suddenly, he felt tired. "Can' fight a memory, cher."

 

"You're not giving up, do you hear me?" Warren stated passionately, as he sat upright. "You told me to hang in there and we will. We'll make him see he's wrong!" Warren had taken hold of his lover's shoulder and barely kept himself from shaking Remy. "You aren't giving up!"

 

"I'm so tired, ange." Remy lowered his eyes and stared at the floor. "His emotions… dey're so strong. I can' keep de shields up all de time." Remy had never managed to rebuild his shields to the way they were before Antarctica and the memory-loss.

 

"We'll have dinner together in 30 minutes." Warren cupped Remy's chin in his hand and raised his lover's face. "Look at me, Rem. What changed your mind?"

 

"Had a nightmare," Remy admitted softly and closed his eyes.

 

"About?"

 

"*Him*," Remy whispered in a choked tone. "He was tellin' me 'gain dat everyt'in' was my fault, dat I made him rape me."

 

Warren grew angry with himself. He should have been there when Remy had woken up. He forced himself to calm down, knowing that Remy was tired due to locking out such intense emotions. "He lied, love. He lied."

 

"It still hurts," Remy whispered and tried to pull away from Warren.

 

"What's going on, Rem?" He barely recognized his lover. Only hours ago, Remy had been determined to face every problem they might encounter.

 

"Don' know. Ange, I feel tired."

 

Warren was tempted to suggest that Remy skipped dinner, but refrained. Remy needed to eat and they had to confront Jason. "I'm so sorry that you have to go through this, love."

 

"I'll be strong for y', cher."

 

"Rem, you've been strong all this time," Warren whispered, touched. "Lean on me? Let me be your strength?" It looked like his lover was exhausting himself, trying to deal with everything at the same time. "I love you," he added instinctively and folded his arms around Remy's frame. Gently, he pulled Remy down until they lay on their sides, facing each other. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here when you woke up from that nightmare."

 

"Y're here now," Remy whispered, blissfully. He'd missed his lover's presence. "Hold me?"

 

"Until the end of time," Warren vowed and cuddled Remy close. "I'll never let you go."

 

Part 9

 

Honeymoon Island

 

Remy sat down at the dinner table, wondering how Jayce would react to finding him there. Mentally, he replayed the information Warren had given him earlier. //De petit witnessed an attempted rape…// Could he find a way to make Jayce understand that Warren wasn’t in any danger?

 

"Are you okay, Rem?" His lover looked worried and Warren couldn't blame him. The next confrontation would be hard on all of them. "I'm here for you, love."

 

Vincent, who'd joined them for dinner, felt concerned. Warren had only hinted at Remy’s past, but Vincent could tell that Remy felt vulnerable.

 

"I'm nervous," Remy admitted. "I don' know what to expect."

 

"Aren't Jayce's emotions giving you some indication of how the boy feels?" Warren stood behind Remy and folded his arms protectively around his lover's shoulders.

 

"Dey're foggy, cher. Can' read dem properly. So many feelings are runnin' t'rough him." Remy leaned into the embrace. //I'd never have survived wit'out y'.//

 

Jayce's cough startled them both. Three pair of eyes met Jayce's brown ones. Warren stared hard at his nephew. He wanted to hear that apology now. Jayce wouldn't get another chance to make things up to Remy. "Loud and clear, young man."

 

Jayce clenched his hands into fists behind his back. Although Warren had planted the seeds of doubt in his heart, he wasn't looking forward to apologizing to Remy.

 

Wolvie stirred beside him, probably sensing the tension in the dining room. The canine left Jayce's side and walked over to Remy. Looking up at the Cajun, Wolvie rested his head in Remy's lap, rubbing the side of his head against the human's thigh. He wanted to be petted, to be reassured that Remy didn't feel abandoned because he'd spent some time with Jayce.

 

Remy ignored Jayce and smiled at Wolvie. "Did y' miss me?" he said teasingly and gently scratched behind the canine's ears. "C'est bien."

 

Jayce felt some stinging jealousy now that the wolf had deserted him in favor of Remy. Warren's eyes told Jayce that his uncle was still waiting for that apology. His stomach growled softly, telling its owner that it needed food. It urged him to speak up. Jayce drew in a deep breath and addressed Remy. "I'm sorry."

 

"C'est bien," Remy whispered, peeking hesitantly at the boy.

 

"No, tell us what you're sorry for," Warren urged Jayce on. He didn't want any more misunderstandings. His nephew would treat Remy respectfully. If not, Jayce would find himself on his way to Saint Andrew's, just like the kid wanted.

 

"I shouldn't have called you a faggot." Jayce locked eyes with Vincent, who nodded approvingly. Earlier, the lawyer had told him to behave, but Jayce had refused to listen. In a certain way he was also apologizing to Vincent.

 

"D'accord," Remy whispered in a nervous tone. "Y're angry, I understand."

 

But Warren silenced his lover by gently squeezing Remy's shoulder. "Let him finish."

 

"I also called you a gold digger," Jayce admitted and heard Warren's surprised intake of breath.

 

"You did what?" Warren said in disbelief.

 

"He said that on our way over here," Vincent said. "I told him that Remy didn't need your money, Warren."

 

"I apologize," Jayce said, barely keeping his anger in check.

 

Remy felt that anger and fortified his shields. "Mais y' don' mean it, petit."

 

Jayce's glance quickly shifted from Vincent to Remy. "This isn't easy," he admitted. "I still don't trust you."

 

"I don' expect y' to trust me," Remy clarified. "Mais try to stop hatin' me?"

 

Warren deemed this the best moment to tell Jayce about Remy's mutant powers. He walked away from his lover and only stopped when he stood in front of Jayce. "You should know that Remy's an empath and your hatred hurts him." Warren heard Remy's soft groan and locked eyes with his lover. "Trust me, Rem."

 

Remy nodded his head. It was too late anyway. Warren had already told Jayce. Remy wished Warren had kept his powers secret a little longer. Now the boy might think that Remy was manipulating his emotions.

 

"A what?" Jayce mumbled, confused. "What's an empath?"

 

Warren looked to Remy to answer that question. Remy sighed deeply. He pushed back the chair and joined Jayce, who immediately took a step back.

 

Wolvie was at Remy's side and ready to protect him in case of trouble. Yes, he liked the boy, but Remy came first.

 

Remy made eye-contact with Jayce and felt the boy's apprehension. "It means dat I can feel what y' feel."

 

"Remy's also a healer," Warren added.

 

"Listen, petit. I won' ever mess wit' y'r feelings. Don' be 'fraid." Remy sensed Jayce's fear, shock and even a twinge of curiosity. He felt encouraged by that and continued. "I know y're hurtin', petit, and dat y're angry, mais y' need to realize dat y're not angry wit' me, mais wit' life."

 

Jayce didn't know how to react. He knew that the anger, which he felt was his. Remy was being honest. The mutant wasn't screwing around with his feelings. If Remy were, no way Jayce would be this hostile towards his uncle's lover. For the first time since Jayce had met Remy, he tried to see the man as he really was, without prejudice coloring his perception. Shocked, Jayce stared into the gold on black eyes, which radiated truth. Swallowing hard, Jayce wondered if he'd misjudged Remy. "Why do you want me here?" he asked suddenly. He'd never intended to voice that question.

 

Pleased, Remy nodded his head. It was a first step. "Mon poppa adopted me when I was 'bout 10. Until den, I didn' have a family. I don' want y' to grow up 'lone."

 

"You were adopted?" Feeling curious, Jayce followed Remy towards the dining table. He mirrored Remy and Warren's movement and sat down. "Do you *really* want me here?"

 

"Why is dat so hard for y' to believe?" Remy asked, concerned.

 

"My dad never wanted me around. I even spent most of my holidays at Saint Andrew's," Jayce replied. He tried to ignore the stabbing pain that pierced his heart.

 

"You t'ink he didn' love y'," Remy stated, convinced.

 

"I caused my mother's death." Jayce's eyes grew big, as he realized what he'd told them. He wished he could take back those words, pull the pain back into himself. Then he remembered what Remy had told him about being an empath. "You're feeling what I'm feeling?"

 

"Oui, y' feel 'lone and guilty. Angry 'cause of de way y'r dad treated y'." Remy hoped he was getting through to the boy. "I ain' de enemy, Jayce."

 

Jayce looked down at his hands, which had relaxed during the conversation. The clenched fists were gone. A part of him wanted to believe Remy. The man seemed to understand and accept him the way he was, which was a first. No one had ever accepted him. Not even his father, so why would Remy be different? The man was probably trying to befriend him for Warren's sake.

 

"Y' don' believe me," Remy realized, sensing Jayce's doubt. Saddened, he stared at the food. He'd lost all appetite.

 

"Give him time," Warren whispered, as he claimed his lover's hand. "We're still getting to know each other, love."

 

Jayce looked up, hearing that last word. //Love, does Warren really love Remy?// The question haunted him. Had he really made such a terrible mistake in judgement? Had he?

 

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Bobby deeply inhaled Nicholas' scent. They'd fallen asleep in each other's arms and he loved waking up while his lover was still dreaming, snuggled close to him. //I never knew it would be like this,// he thought in contentment. //I know now that I've never loved someone before, *really loved* someone.// The thought of leaving Nicholas to go back to the mansion made him feel queasy. But Nicholas had to attend classes and Scott had scheduled a training session at 09.00. Bobby had better not be late. //What if I send Scott a message, telling him that I'm calling in sick? That way I could spend more time with Nicholas and I can drop him off at the University.// The thought was extremely tempting and Bobby quickly gave in.

 

Cautiously, trying not to wake his lover, Bobby released Nicholas and sneaked out of bed. Only then, he realized he was butt naked. They'd fallen asleep after making love. His cock stirred a little, as Bobby remembered the way Nicholas had moved against him during their lovemaking.

 

Bobby blushed, slightly embarrassed that he'd been so eager to try all those different positions, but he'd heard and read about them and had wanted to know what would work best for them. They all had. Bobby grinned and headed towards Nicholas' desk in the adjourning room. He sat down and switched on the computer screen. Great, Nicholas' inbox was already open and all he had to do was open a new message, address it to Scott, and then...

 

//LeBeau?// Why was there a message in his lover's inbox with that name on it? //Does Nicholas know Remy? No, he would have told me.// Confused, Bobby wondered whether he should have a look at that message. //It's not Remy's E-mail addy, Warren gave me that one, so... what the hell's going on?// Bobby stole a glance at Nicholas, who hadn't woken yet and then tried to open the message.

 

#Enter password.#

 

"Damn!" Bobby whispered the word. Nicholas had secured his messages.

 

"What are you doing, Bobby?" Nicholas opened his eyes. He'd woken when Bobby had climbed out of bed, but had remained motionless.

 

"I want to send a message to the mansion, telling Scott I won't participate in today's training session." Bobby hoped his voice sounded steady.

 

But Nicholas heard the odd tone. "What's wrong?" He sat upright in bed. The sheet fell down to his waist.

 

Bobby swallowed hard at the beautiful sight of his lover. He didn't even want to think that Nicholas was hiding something from him. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation. "Why are you receiving messages from a certain LeBeau? Is it Remy?"

 

Nicholas suddenly tensed. Damn, he should have deleted that message, but he'd been so tired that he'd forgotten. "Darling, let me explain." Nicholas cringed, seeing the sudden apprehension and distrust in Bobby's eyes. He'd never intended for Bobby to find out.

 

"If it isn't Remy," Bobby said firmly. "Who is it?"

 

"His father, Jean-Luc LeBeau," Nicholas whispered and watched helplessly as Bobby created this emotional distance between them. Oh, he understood that Bobby felt left out, possibly even betrayed but... "I couldn't tell you."

 

Bobby understood perfectly. "You're his spy?" When Scott and he had visited Warren and Remy in Ireland, the Cajun had hinted that Jean-Luc had spies in Westchester that kept the former patriarch up to date. But Bobby had never expected Nicholas to be one of them.

 

"Jean-Luc wants to make sure that Rogue won't try to hurt Remy again," Nicholas said and wrapped the sheet closely around his body. He felt vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden. //Please, I don't want to lose Bobby over this!//

 

Bobby got up from behind the desk and returned to the bedroom where he put on his clothes. He hardly looked at Nicholas, as he was too busy trying to figure things out. "You used me," he stated eventually. "I was your main source of information." He felt utterly betrayed. "I trusted you and you were only using me." A strange sense of detachment coursed through him. Reality would hit him later on.

 

"You don't understand, Bobby," Nicholas replied in a worried tone. He got out of bed himself and clutched the sheet tightly. "Remy's very important to Jean-Luc and I..."

 

"Are you a trained thief too?" Bobby slid into his sneakers and grabbed his coat. He felt dirty and used. //I thought he loved me!//

 

"Yes, but Bobby..." Nicholas went after Bobby, who marched towards the front door. "Please listen to me!"

 

Bobby turned around and glared at Nicholas. "Come on, just admit it. You needed inside information and I was dumb enough to confide in you. Geeze, I've been so stupid to think that you loved me!"

 

"Bobby, wait!" Nicholas took hold of Bobby's right arm and tried to keep him from leaving. "Let me explain this and then you can leave." He was beginning to panic. He was utterly in love with the X-Man and seeing the loathing in Bobby's eyes made him nauseous.

 

"You should have told me before we started to date," Bobby said in an accusing tone. "Were you afraid that I'd break things off once I knew the truth? Dammit, Nick! You must have laughed hard when I fell for you!"

 

"No, Bobby, please..." Nicholas fought back his tears when Bobby slammed the door hard behind him. "Let me explain..." But Bobby was gone and could no longer hear him. Leaning heavily against the wall, he let go of the tears that swam in his eyes. "I never used you. I never laughed at you. Fuck, I'm so sorry, Bobby."

 

Sliding down the wall, his knees gave out beneath him. He held onto the sheet for warmth and comfort and cried softly.

 

///

 

"Bobby?"

 

Scott had been on his way to the Danger Room, when the younger man crashed into him. Bobby obviously wasn't paying attention where he was going and Scott noticed the faint impression on Bobby's face that revealed that he'd cried. "Stop right there," Scott instructed and grabbed Bobby's arm.

 

"Lemme go, Slim."

 

Scott raised an eyebrow, hearing the angry tone in his friend's voice. "Let's talk, Drake." Not taking no for an answer, he pulled Bobby into the professor's study, which was empty. "Sit and try to calm down."

 

"I can't fucking believe it!" Bobby sneered angrily.

 

"Believe what?" Scott sat down opposite his friend, behind the professor's desk. "What happened?"

 

"It's Nicholas," Bobby hissed between gritted teeth.

 

"Lover's quarrel?" The glare that Bobby shot him alarmed Scott. "What the hell happened?"

 

"He's a fucking spy!" Bobby blurted out. "Nicholas works for Jean-Luc LeBeau, who wants to know what's going on at the mansion. He used me." Those last three words were a desperate whimper.

 

"A spy?" Scott repeated, stunned.

 

"Nicholas is one of them, a thief." Bobby shook his head. "I trusted him, Slim. I thought he loved me."

 

Scott watched Bobby closely. "Nicholas told you?"

 

"Come on, man. It's way obvious that he was using me to get his information." Bobby dug his fingernails into the armrest of the chair. "I was so stupid."

 

Scott saw the pain and sadness that hid beneath Bobby's anger. "Did Nicholas tell you or did you draw these conclusions yourself?" he asked again.

 

"He didn't need to tell me, Slim." Bobby made eye-contact with his friend. "I feel used."

 

Scott considered his advice carefully. "Why don't you give Nicholas a chance to tell his side of the story?"

 

"What's there to tell?" Bobby asked, embittered. "I'm going to my room, Scott. Don't expect me to take part in the training session. I don't want to hurt anyone accidentally." He got to his feet and turned away from Scott. "I don't want to talk to him, so in case he calls, you can tell him I'm not in."

 

"Bobby, running away from this won't help."

 

"I'm not running away, Slim. I just need time to deal with this." Bobby was angrier with himself than with Nicholas. He'd walked into the trap with eyes wide open and he couldn't really blame Nicholas for doing his job. It just hurt that their love wasn't true.

 

///

 

Later that night, Nicholas sneaked over the mansion's premises, easily avoiding all safety measures. The security cameras didn't pick up on his presence and confidently, he began to climb the outside wall. His destination was Bobby's window and he was determined to reach it. Dressed in black clothes, he didn't stand out against the dark wall.

 

When he reached Bobby's window, he carefully peeked inside. He'd expected to find Bobby awake or pacing, but the young man was asleep in his bed and Nicholas envied him. He'd tossed and turned after Bobby had stormed out on him and in the end, he'd decided to carry out this plan.

 

Agile fingers opened the window and he soundlessly slid inside. //Bobby, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to find out that way. I'd have told you once Jean-Luc had given me permission, but he's out of reach.//

 

Nicholas tiptoed over to the bed and looked at the sleeper. //My God, Bobby, I do love you. I never used you. If only you had given me a chance to explain.// But now that his cover had been blown, he'd never get another chance to explain himself to Bobby. He'd move to another city in a few hours and he'd never see Bobby again. His heart ached.

 

He gently took hold of the flowers that he'd stacked away in his backpack and placed them on the bed next to Bobby. "I love you," he whispered sincerely and managed to control the urge to lean in and kiss Bobby. //It's over,// he reminded himself and returned to the window. In a few minutes he'd sit in his car, leaving Bobby behind forever.

 

"I wish things had been different, Bobby." Nicholas forced himself to turn away from the sleeper and headed for the window. Making no sound at all, he climbed down the wall and disappeared from sight.

 

///

 

Bobby groaned as he woke the next morning. He felt depressed and had absolutely no desire to leave his warm bed. //The first thing I used to do was to call Nicholas... So why get up?// Lazily, he stretched his body and hated the fact that warm sunbeams had found a way into his room. He could have sworn that he'd closed the curtains before going to bed.

 

Turning onto his other side, he cursed loudly as something sharp stabbed him in his side. "What?" Bobby threw off the sheet and stared at the three roses that lay beside him. Next to the roses was a closed envelope. "Nicholas," he whispered, realizing the thief and spy had broken into his room last night. "We need to upgrade our security system," he mumbled absentmindedly.

 

Attached to the stems of the three red roses was a note. Bobby picked up the flowers and turned the note around so he could read the words.

 

One red rose for every time that we made love.

 

Bobby's eyes began to water. "Damn you, Nicholas. Why are you doing this to me?" Bobby's heart felt heavy with pain and regret. His hand trembled as he opened the letter. Only now, he realized that he was clutching the red roses to his chest. Bobby's eyes scanned the content of the letter.

 

Bobby,

 

I didn't want to leave Westchester without explaining my actions to you. If you throw away this letter, so be it, but I can't leave like this.

 

I do love you, Bobby. I never planned on falling in love with you, but for me it was love at first sight. I'd never have made the first move, but when you came to the grocery store, which I was using as a cover, I couldn't help myself and agreed to meet you for coffee. Things got worse for me from that moment on. I was falling head over heals in love with you, but I knew that we couldn't be together. You're an X-Man and I realized that once you found out that I was here to gather information on Rogue, you'd kick me out.

 

Yes, I spied on the X-Men, but I never used you to acquire information. As you might have noticed by now I'm quite capable of sneaking inside to gather my information without anyone knowing about it. I never used you, Bobby. Never!

 

You'll probably wonder why Jean-Luc sent me to spy for him. He needed someone whom Remy wouldn't recognize. Remy and I never met and Jean-Luc thought I was the perfect man for the job. Yes, I'm a trained thief and I know how to misguide people, but I always tried to be honest with you.

 

I hope that you can someday forgive me for misleading you. It was never my intention. I suddenly found myself between a rock and a hard place. I didn't want to let Jean-Luc LeBeau down, but I didn't want to lose you either.

 

I'll leave Westchester and won't bother you again. I wish I hadn't hurt you like this.

 

Nicholas D'Arcy-LeBeau

 

The letter dropped from his fingers and dumbfounded he stared at Nicholas' last name. D'Arcy-LeBeau? Why had Nicholas signed the letter with LeBeau?

 

Absentmindedly, he clutched the roses harder and one thorn slipped beneath his skin. Bobby brought his finger to his lips and suckled it, trying to stop the bleeding.

 

Nicholas' letter sounded sincere, but the sense of betrayal was still there. Why did he feel like he still didn't have all the answers? There was only way to make sure, he'd have to confront Nicholas. But what if Nicholas had already left Westchester?

 

"I shouldn't have walked away. Damn, Scott was right. We should have talked this through!" He didn't even know who Nicholas truly was. Had he fallen in love with the real Nicholas? "I need to know!" he realized and jumped out of bed. Within minutes he was dressed. When he left the mansion, he still carried the roses in his right hand.

 

///

 

Richmond International Airport

 

"Did I ever tell ya that I hate flyin'? Never got enough leg space. Gimme the Black Bird anytime." Jean-Luc had arranged seats for them on the next commercial flight to Florida.

 

Amused, Jean-Luc watched him. He could tell that Logan was trying to distract him. He was still greatly worried about Remy. Something didn't feel right.

 

"Ya'll be with Remy in a few hours, Cajun," Logan reminded Jean-Luc. Hopefully, his lover would grow less restless by then. "Honeymoon Island," he growled softly. "Why doesn't it surprise me that Warren would buy a place with that name?"

 

"Cher? Stop complaining. It isn't working." Jean-Luc stared at the plane, which was almost ready. "Let's board." He led the way and handed the ground stewardess their tickets.

 

Logan followed reluctantly. "I can't believe ya don't own a private jet."

 

"I do."

 

"Then why ain't we usin' it?" Logan sighed, exasperated.

 

"I don't want anyone to know dat we're heading for Florida. Dat's why we're flying under aliases."

 

"Gettin' paranoid, Cajun?" Concerned, Logan studied Jean-Luc, but he refrained from making any more comments. Jean-Luc looked seriously worried and he decided to support his lover whatever way possible. "Let's get movin' then."

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Vincent? We need to talk." Warren signaled Vincent to follow him into the library. He caught Remy's slightly panicked expression, as his lover realized he'd stay behind alone with Jayce. "We'll be back in a moment, Rem."

 

Remy nodded his head and watched them leave. Sitting on the sofa, Remy closely observed Jayce, who was busy surfing the net. "Any interestin' sites?" Remy asked, trying to engage Jayce in some conversation. Thankfully, the boy's feelings of hatred had diminished. They were still there, but not that strong any longer.

 

"Not really," Jayce replied, thoughtfully.

 

"Are y' interested in art?" Remy felt at a loss. Jayce wasn't really cooperative.

 

"Art? No." Jayce exited the program and switched off the computer. He turned to face Remy. He'd had some time to think things over and was getting worried that he'd misjudged Remy completely. Oh, man. If that was true he'd made a complete ass of himself. "How long have you and Warren been together?"

 

Jayce's question surprised Remy. "A few mont's."

 

"How did you meet?" Jayce walked over to the couch and sat at the other end, maintaining distance between them. He noticed how tired Remy looked and wondered why dark circles were starting to show beneath his gold on black eyes.

 

"We... were bot' X-Men..." Remy had chosen for the past tense because they were no longer officially on the team.

 

Jayce considered the answer. "But you weren't lovers all the time?"

 

Remy sighed. Why was Jayce suddenly asking these questions? And why did the boy use the word lovers instead of faggots now? Was he really getting through to Jason? Mon Dieu, he fervently hoped so! Remy remembered Jayce's question and replied, "Non, we weren' lovers. Y'r uncle hated my guts when I was still an X-Man."

 

"Hated you?" Growing interested, Jayce moved closer to Remy. "Why?"

 

"I'm a trained t'ief, petit and he didn' t'ink much of dat."

 

"A thief?" Jayce wondered how many more revelations would follow.

 

"Oui, a t'ief."

 

"What about the accent? Where are you from?"

 

"N'Awlings... New Orleans," Remy explained quickly. "Grew up dere."

 

"With the family that adopted you?" 

 

"Oui, lived dere wit' tante and Jean-Luc."

 

"Where you already an empath back then?" The empath thing puzzled Jayce.

 

"Oui," Remy whispered, feeling uncomfortable. //I ain't gonna t'ink of de Antiquary. He's gone.//

 

Jayce registered the sudden discomfort on Remy's face. "Sorry, didn't want to pry. You're entitled to your privacy."

 

"Merci." Remy reached out and petted Wolvie's head, who had unceremoniously draped himself over Remy's lap after the Cajun had settled down on the sofa.

 

"Can you feel his emotions too?" Intrigued, Jayce's eyes followed the graceful movement of Remy's hand.

 

"Oui, de're wonderful."

 

"I bet it feels better than sensing mine." Jayce felt guiltier with every passing moment. "I'm sorry I called you that name." 

 

"Merci, petit. Means a lot to me." Remy wasn't sure what was going on, but Jayce's hostility seemed to be diminishing. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

 

///

 

In the library Warren and Vincent exchanged concerned looks. "We'll talk about the boy in a moment," Warren started, "but first... did you manage to make the name change official? Am I Warren LeBeau now?"

 

Vincent opened his suitcase and handed Warren a stack of papers. "You will be after you signed these."

 

Warren sat down and quickly scanned the documents. Resolved, he signed them.

 

"That one gives Remy power of attorney," Vincent pointed out when Warren reached the last document.

 

Warren smiled as he signed it and handed the papers back to Vincent. "I'll tell Remy tonight."

 

Pleased, Vincent put the documents back into his suitcase. "What about Jason? Are you sure you want to invest that much time and energy in him? He doesn't listen and he's really stubborn."

 

"I think Remy's making progress with him," Warren replied, as he leaned back into the comfort of his chair. "I don't know a thing about the boy. Can you gather some information on him? He told me he witnessed an attempted rape at Saint Andrew's."

 

"So that's why he's so angry with Remy and you?" Vincent took out his notebook and wrote down the school's name. He'd follow up on it.

 

"Yes," Warren sighed the word and then looked thoughtfully at Vincent. "In time I'll arrange for a private tutor. Let's give Jayce some time to recuperate first."

 

"Yes, Jayce witnessed Sam's death. That shook him up pretty bad."

 

"I wondered about that," Warren mumbled and sought out Vincent's eyes. "Do you know what caused the accident?"

 

"I asked Jayce before we attended the funeral."

 

"And?"

 

Vincent closed his eyes, trying to remember Jayce's exact words. "They were on their way to a farm, which Sam wanted to buy. Sam was ready to settle down and wanted to spend more time with Jayce. Jayce told me that the sun had just set when a bright light blinded them. At first, they thought it was a car and expected to collide with the other vehicle, but they never did. The light grew stronger and Sam lost control over the car. It was suddenly catapulted over the road and they ended up upside down when a tree stopped them."

 

"Go on," Warren said, intrigued. 

 

"They had both buckled their seatbelts and Sam was trapped. Jayce tried to unbuckle his father, but couldn't reach him. Sam didn't die on impact. He struggled for breath for a few minutes. Several ribs had punctured his lungs, causing internal bleeding."

 

"How did Jayce get out?" Warren wondered what emotional damage witnessing this scene had done to Jayce.

 

"A car that passed them by stopped and turned around. The woman called 911 and she managed to get Jayce out of the car. But Sam was already dead at that point." Vincent clasped his hands in his lap. "I only managed to get Jayce to talk about the accident once. He doesn't know how to deal with it."

 

"Can you blame him? He saw his dad die." Warren got to his feet and paced slowly. "He'll stay here. If anyone can help him, it's Remy."

 

"I didn't know that he was an empath." Warren had only told him that Remy could charge lifeless objects with kinetic energy.

 

"He doesn't like people to know everything about him." Warren suddenly had the craving to hug his lover tightly. "That's all for now, Vincent. When will you leave?"

 

"I've got a boat standing by to take me to the mainland." Vincent rose from his chair and shook Warren's hand. "I'll try to find out more about Jayce."

 

Warren nodded his head once and opened the door. Vincent left quickly and Warren returned to the living room, wondering if Jayce was still behaving himself.

 

Part 10

 

Westchester

 

Feeling nervous, Bobby tried to locate Nicholas in the massive crowd. He'd gone to Nicholas' apartment first, but had only found empty rooms. The furniture had either been removed or covered up by sheets. Next, he'd imagined what he would do if he were in Nicholas' shoes. The letter had mentioned that Nicholas was leaving Westchester, so Bobby had driven to the nearest airport, hoping to find him there.

 

During the ride, he'd had time to think things over. He'd read the letter again and the roses were on the back seat of the car. Maybe he'd overreacted. Nicholas deserved a chance to explain everything. Yes, he knew bits and pieces now, but could he let Nicholas leave like that? No!

 

"Nicholas!" Bobby called the name loudly, as he located the young man, who'd just handed the stewardess his boarding pass. "Don't go on board yet!" Nicholas didn't react and Bobby suspected that the other man hadn't heard him. Bobby fought himself a way through the crowd and grabbed Nicholas' jacket before the other man could disappear. "We need to talk, Nicholas."

 

"Bobby?" Stunned, Nicholas stared into his former lover's eyes. "What are you doing here? My flight's about to leave."

 

"You can catch the next flight, if you still want to leave after we talked," Bobby said resolved and pulled Nicholas away from the exit. "I found your letter... and the roses."

 

"I wanted to say good-bye," Nicholas whispered, taken aback. What was Bobby doing here? He'd never expected the X-Man to come after him. Why had Bobby decided to track him down?

 

"I should have given you that chance," Bobby replied, regretfully. "Can we talk now?"

 

Nicholas watched, as the plane he was supposed to be on, started to taxi. "I suppose so. I missed my flight anyway."

 

Bobby's heart missed a beat, seeing the expression in Nicholas' eyes. It was apparent that the other man expected this to be an unpleasant conversation. "Come on, let's find a place to sit down. I'd kill for some coffee." He'd left the mansion without eating breakfast. Bobby's stomach growled demonstratively.

 

Nicholas followed Bobby and they picked a table at the back of the restaurant. Bobby ordered coffee and some sandwiches, and Nicholas stuck to tea.

 

"What do you want to talk about?" Nicholas asked softly.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bobby maintained eye contact the entire time.

 

"I couldn't. Jean-Luc didn't want anyone to know I was out there." Nicholas nodded thankfully as the waitress brought their order. He sipped carefully from the hot tea.

 

"Which reminds me..." Bobby uncovered the letter. "Why did you sign it D'Arcy-*LeBeau*?" Bobby suddenly realized how stupid it'd been to walk out on Nicholas. Those answers had to come out into the open, if they wanted to move on and settle this. He still loved Nicholas and wanted to give their relationship a second chance. He refused to let Nicholas walk out of his life like this.

 

"Jean-Luc's my father."

 

Bobby caught the defiant expression in Nicholas' eyes. "Your father?" Remy had never mentioned having a... what? Half-brother? Foster-brother? Jean-Luc wasn't Remy's biological father and that made things even more complicated. Then another question surfaced. "Does Remy know?"

 

Nicholas shook his head. "He doesn't." Thoughtfully, he stared at his tea. "Do you really want to hear this now?"

 

"Yes, tell me."

 

"Why?" Nicholas locked eyes with Bobby. "You made up your mind yesterday. Why should I tell you?"

 

"I shouldn't have judged you that quickly," Bobby admitted. "But I felt hurt."

 

Nicolas understood, but wondered why Bobby was here in the first place. "Why did you come after me? You told me in very clear words that our relationship was over."

 

Bobby swallowed hard. He'd made one hell of a mistake. "I came after you because I love you."

 

Nicholas' eyes grew big, hearing that admission. "Even after I *betrayed* you?" At least, that was how Bobby saw it.

 

"Did you betray me?" Cautiously, Bobby sought out Nicholas' hand beneath the table. Once he'd found the precious limb, he felt how tremors coursed through it. Nicholas was nervous too. "I've been thinking about that."

 

Nicholas waited patiently. The next move was Bobby's. "I never used you to get the information I was after."

 

"You broke into the mansion before?" That still puzzled Bobby. "How? The mansion is extremely well secured."

 

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. "I had excellent teachers, the best."

 

"Will you tell me your story?" Bobby asked after he'd sipped from his coffee.

 

"Everything?"

 

"Yeah, everything," Bobby confirmed as he took a bite from his sandwich. "If you want this relationship to work, you've got to come clean. I feel like I'm in love with someone I don't know."

 

Nicholas licked his lips. Had Bobby just hinted at the fact that they might still have a future together? "Do you think we can... stay together? I would want that very much. I love you, Bobby." Bobby blushed and Nicholas' heart leaped in his chest. The answer was obviously yes.

 

"Just tell me," Bobby mumbled, shyly.

 

"After Jean-Luc's wife Louise died, he met my mother, Marie. They started to see each other, but Jean-Luc felt like betraying Louise. They never got really close emotionally and one day my mother discovered that she was pregnant. She never told Jean-Luc and left. She felt like he didn't really love her because he kept holding back. We left for Europe and she settled down in Paris."

 

Bobby gently squeezed Nicholas' hand to encourage him to continue.

 

"When I was 12 she told me who my father really was. I already knew his name, but didn't know that he was the patriarch of the New Orleans' Thieves Guild. She gave me the chance to meet my father. When Jean-Luc and I first met, I couldn't stop crying. He told me that he'd only known of my existence for the last 2 years. My mother had kept my birth secret and Jean-Luc desperately wanted to get to know me."

 

"So what happened?" Bobby had already forgiven Nicholas in his heart and he suspected Nicholas knew that as well.

 

"We agreed that I would spend 3 months with my father each year. I traveled to New Orleans, but Jean-Luc made sure that no one knew that I was his son."

 

"And he never introduced you to Remy? You must be about the same age."

 

"I never met Remy. There was always a power struggle going on in the Thieves Guild and Jean-Luc wanted to keep me safe." Nicholas smiled. "I always wanted to meet Remy so when Jean-Luc suggested I'd go to Westchester, I gladly accepted. I hoped to finally meet my brother, which I did."

 

Yes, Bobby had introduced Nicholas to Warren and Remy. "And you never told him?"

 

"I couldn't. It was obvious that Remy was having a rough time and I didn't want to spring this on him." Nicholas only now realized that he was rubbing Bobby's knuckles. "I wanted to keep Remy safe, that's why I accepted this assignment."

 

"How did you become a thief? And are you really a history student?" Bobby wanted to get to know the real Nicholas.

 

"My mother died when I was 16. She had cancer. Jean-Luc found me a foster family. I wanted to be a thief because I hoped it'd make my father proud." Nicholas paused briefly. "I was working on my master's degree in History when Jean-Luc sent me here and I decided to take some classes at the University."

 

"You live in New Orleans then?"

 

"No, I live in Paris. Jean-Luc asked me to be his contact there and I accepted. I was studying at the Sorbonne." Nicholas felt encouraged. Even after his confession, Bobby was still holding his hand. "Anything else you want to know?"

 

Bobby carefully considered his answer. "Nicholas, would you stay here? I want things to work out between us. I can't let you go. I love you too much to lose you."

 

Surprised, Nicholas forced back the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. "Do you really want me to stay?"

 

"Now that the secrets are gone, yes. Give us another chance?" Bobby remembered the three roses, which he'd found in his bed. "Why the roses?"

 

"I wanted you to know that I care." Nicholas averted his eyes. "Making love with you is beyond words."

 

Bobby placed the money that they owed the waitress on the table and pulled Nicholas to his feet. "Let's get going."

 

"Where are we going?" Dazed, Nicholas allowed Bobby to pull him towards the exit.

 

"Some place private," Bobby stated firmly. "We still need to do a lot of talking."

 

"Bobby." Nicholas stopped him. "Are we still together?"

 

"Yes," Bobby replied at once. "We are."

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Rem?" Warren watched as his lover disappeared into the bathroom. "Are you going to take a shower?"

 

"Oui," Remy replied and caught Warren's glance. "Wanna join me?"

 

"What about using the jacuzzi?" Warren walked over to Remy, who was already taking off his clothes. Lines of worry were etched onto Remy's brow and Warren wanted to help his lover relax.

 

"Bien," Remy said listlessly and turned the water on so the jacuzzi would fill up quickly.

 

Remy's apparent lethargy worried Warren. "Hey, what's the matter?"

 

Remy slid into the warm water and pulled up his knees so he could rest his chin on them. "Feelin' melancholy, cher."

 

Warren didn't waste any time, stripped and joined his lover in the water. "Can I hold you?" He'd learned to be careful when Remy was in this kind of mood.

 

"I'd like dat," Remy replied after thinking it over. He moved closer to Warren, who opened his arms to capture him in them. Remy nudged Warren's legs apart and sat between them. Content, he rested his back against Warren's chest. "Bien."

 

"What's bothering you?" Warren asked softly as he single-handedly massaged his lover's shoulders. His other hand was holding Remy's. "You've been gloomy since this morning. Is it because of the nightmare?"

 

Remy closed his eyes and bit his lip. He'd known Warren would want to address this. "I'm gettin' so tired of havin' de same old dream all de time."

 

"About the Antiquary?" Warren caressed Remy's fingers and pressed a gently kiss on the back of his lover's neck.

 

"Oui," Remy admitted at once. "When will de dreams stop? I should have dealt wit' it by now. It happened many years ago and he's still dere in my dreams."

 

Warren heard the edge of panic in Remy's voice and wrapped his arms and legs tighter around his lover. "Rem, this will affect you forever. I doubt it'll ever go away completely. The emotional scars run too deep. You've got to accept that it's part of who you are."

 

Remy's eyes opened slowly. "For de rest of my life?"

 

"Yes, but you also know that we can heal those emotional injuries. You just need time. You've got the tendency to push yourself when you're not ready to take the next step." Warren had told Remy this before.

 

Remy turned in the embrace and wrapped his long legs around Warren's waist. They now faced each other and the warm water reached onto their armpits. "I want to make love wit' y', cher."

 

Cautiously, Warren tried to gauge Remy's intentions. "Why now?"

 

"Because I need to feel y'." Remy took the initiative and kissed Warren hard. "Mais I ain' sure I can go all de way, cher."

 

"What do you want to do?" Warren welcomed the hand that wrapped itself around his awakening cock. Semi-hard already, his shaft was definitely interested in Remy's ministrations.

 

"Like dis?" Remy's voice trembled a little, but he sighed relieved as Warren's fingers curled around his erection. He only hoped that limiting their activity to handjobs wouldn't disappoint Warren.

 

Warren smiled and arched his back as Remy's strokes grew harder. "Whatever you want, you'll get, love." He realized that Remy was setting boundaries and was saying no because he wasn't in the mood to make love. Warren respected his lover for that. It was one thing he'd always hoped Remy would understand; his right to say no.

 

Warren matched his strokes with Remy's and it didn't take them long to reach climax. Warren came first. He moaned as Remy continued to milk him dry. "I love you, Rem."

 

Remy blushed. Suddenly Warren rolled Remy's left nipple between his fingertips and that unexpected stimulation pushed Remy towards orgasm too. He came in Warren's hand and he thrust wildly, as he reached completion. "Oh, cher..." The intensity of the feelings between them would always baffle Remy. Warren constantly radiated love and affection, but when they were this intimate those feelings intensified to a level he'd thought impossible.

 

"The glow's back," Warren mumbled, pleased. It was very faint, but the golden glow surrounded their bodies, binding them together. "How do you do that?"

 

"I don' know, cher," Remy admitted and caressed Warren's face.

 

"Wow," Warren groaned, as a wave of delight coursed through him. "Touch me again?"

 

Remy obeyed and stroked Warren's shoulders with his tingling fingertips.

 

Warren quivered and his cock saluted again.

 

"Cher? What's happenin'?"

 

"I feel like I'm about to come again," Warren moaned, not fighting the ecstatic feeling that pooled in his groin.

 

Warren's reaction puzzled Remy and he opened his shields completely to feel what Warren was experiencing. He yelped softly as a tidal wave of lust and love washed over him.

 

"Rem, touch me again?" Warren couldn't stop himself from making that request. He'd never felt this raw need before. "I wish you could take me," he added softly. "But I understand."

 

Overwhelmed by Warren's reaction to his touch, Remy struggled to phrase a reply. "We don' have lube, cher."

 

"Can you feel it too? Do you, Rem?" Warren bucked against Remy, seemingly begging his lover to help him find release. "I never felt this... complete before." It was like Remy's feelings were mingling with his, until they became one mind.

 

Remy felt the need too and rational thinking deserted him. All he knew was that he needed to get closer to Warren, to touch him, caress every part of his body, and possess him completely. He'd never felt Warren's crushing need this clearly and it urged him on, leaving only the desire to please his lover. He wasn't thinking logically when he pulled Warren out of the water and placed him on the floor.

 

"Oh yes, please, now..." Warren spread his wings until they rested comfortably on the tiles. He pulled up his legs, hooked his arms around his knees and presented himself shamelessly. "Rem, inside, now!"

 

Warren's frenzied need became his and Remy poured some bath oil over his erect cock. "Soon, cher... soon," he soothed his lover. A small voice in the back of his head told him that he should prepare Warren first, but when his lover's eyes locked with his, Remy acted instinctively. "Cher, je t'aime."

 

Warren quavered as Remy's cock pushed passed the ring of tight muscle. As soon as his lover was inside, Warren released his legs and threw them over Remy's shoulders. With his hands he managed to grab his lover's ass and pulled Remy deeper inside. "Yeah, inside me... all of you. Mine..."

 

Both men's thoughts had stopped being rational some time ago and only animalistic grunts left their throats as they settled into a wild rhythm.

 

"More, harder... deeper!" Warren no longer recognized his own voice. He let go of his lover's buttocks, satisfied that Remy filled him completely and stroked himself hard, eager to reach orgasm again. Remy leaned over him, both his hands rested on the floor to support him. It was one of the most beautiful sights Warren had ever seen.

 

"Cher, touch me... dere..." Sharing Warren's feelings, Remy experienced the pleasure that his lover felt. Part of that pleasure was due to being penetrated.

 

Warren reacted at once. "Suck it," and he offered his lover his index finger.

 

Remy bathed the fingertip in saliva and guided his lover's hand, as it crawled down his lower back. "Oui, cher," he moaned and stopped thrusting.

 

Warren used the momentary rest to his advantage and inserted his digit into Remy's body. "Hot, tight," he moaned, as he began a thrusting motion himself.

 

"Cher, we're gonna come," Remy announced. He wanted to push back so he could take Warren's finger deeper, but at the same time his lover urged him to thrust again.

 

Both men released a whimper as they reached orgasm. "Cher," Remy buried himself inside Warren's passage and tensed as his lover's finger stroked his prostate. Their orgasm was ripped from them and they released their come in short spurts.

 

Feeling Remy reach completion like this, Warren roughly sought out his lover's lips and bruised them in one brutal kiss.

 

They clung to each other for long moments afterwards. Warren removed his finger from Remy's body and shivered.

 

Remy's sated sex slipped out of Warren and he collapsed on top of his lover. Unable to move, Remy lay there panting. A film of sweat covered their bodies and Remy managed to catch Warren's eyes. "Cher?"

 

"Rem," Warren mumbled. "Best loving I ever had!" he whispered enthusiastically.

 

"Same for me, mais..." Remy tried to roll off his lover, but his body refused to move.

 

Warren saw the exhaustion in Remy's eyes and gently rolled them onto their sides. Facing each other, they tried to regulate their breathing. "Look, the glow!" It had never been this strong before.

 

"What did we do?" Remy asked in a shaky tone.

 

"You let go, Rem. It was the first time you really let go." Warren expected to see guilt and shame in Remy's gold on black eyes, but they were only draped with satiation. Remy seemed speechless, so Warren continued. "It felt like you *really* took me this time. You didn't constantly ask me if I was fine, or if you were hurting me. You took what you wanted, what *we* wanted. Oh Rem, it was amazing. I can still feel the tremors rocking my body."

 

"Y' wanted me to take y' dat way," Remy said softly. "I... saw what y' wanted."

 

"You *saw*?"

 

"Wrong choice of words," Remy said quickly. "Felt like y' guided my actions." Remy gently caressed his lover's face. "Dis feels right."

 

"Feels fucking amazing," Warren agreed and blushed. Oh God, how he loved that little aggressive streak Remy had just displayed. "You're healing, Remy. This was the first time you let go of your fears and memories. We just have to be patient."

 

"Oui, I wasn' 'fraid."

 

Warren's fingers tangled in Remy's locks. "I don't want this... *enchantment* to end." The air was filled with the scent of honey and sugar and he even detected a hint of roses beneath them. It felt so good to see Remy's eyes free of fear. //And he isn't hovering over me to make sure he didn't hurt me when we made love. Oh, I already feel sore, but it was worth it!//

 

"Wanna go back into de water, cher?" Remy's hand wandered down Warren's chest and briefly caressed his lover's sated organ.

 

"Yes," Warren panted, surprised by the touch. //Remy said that my urges, my need had guided him when we made love. Isn't that amazing? I wonder if I can do that again the next time we have sex.// Warren allowed Remy to help him slide into the jacuzzi. Then he remembered the one thing that would have stunned him, if he'd been thinking straight. Remy had asked him to enter him too. Only with one finger, yes, but Remy had wanted it.

 

"I'm tired, ange," Remy mumbled as he pulled Warren close. Gently, Remy forced Warren's head against his shoulder so his lover could rest. Beneath the warm water, Remy's hands continued to caress Warren's body. They stroked the soft flesh of the insides of his lover's thighs, played with the pubic hair and slid up and down Warren's stomach.

 

The sensuality in those caresses surprised Warren. He'd never seen this quality before. Something had happened when that glow had urged them to make love. Something very profound, but Warren couldn't figure it out. Deeply content, Warren rested in Remy's arms.

 

///

 

Richmond to Florida

 

"How much longer?" Logan complained. He tried to stretch his legs, but there wasn't enough room. "Ya could have bought first class tickets."

 

Jean-Luc gave him a sharp look. "Something's wrong."

 

"Whadda ya mean?"

 

"One of de engines sounds... off," Jean-Luc tried to peek at the engines through the small window. "Don't you hear it?"

 

"Was dozin'," Logan admitted, but focused his hearing on the four engines. "Yeah, yer right." Alarmed, he exchanged a look with Jean-Luc. "Do ya think the pilot noticed?" He'd barely asked the question when a soft chirp sounded.

 

"This is your captain speaking. Due to minor technical problems we're forced to land on a nearby airport. I apologize for the inconvenience, but our first priority is your safety." The chirp sounded again and the 150 passengers stirred. The stewardesses tried to calm everyone down, but a hint of panic remained.

 

"Dis isn't a coincidence. Someone sabotaged dat engine."

 

Jean-Luc's statement startled Logan. "Why? Why would anyone do that?"

 

"Dis is about us, mon ami." Jean-Luc nodded his head. "Someone's trying to keep us from reaching Remy."

 

"How can ya be sure about that?" Logan's mind raced, trying to find a logical solution for their predicament. "Maybe the plane was already malfunctionin' when it took off?"

 

"We would have heard," Jean-Luc corrected him. "De noise started only minutes ago."

 

"Ya really think that someone's tryin' to stop us? Who?"

 

"I don't know, cher, but I've got de feeling we'll find out soon."

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

Remy and Warren were about to go to sleep when loud banging on their door alarmed them.

 

"Mister Worthington, we've got an emergency!"

 

Warren raced over to the door after quickly donning some clothes and opened it. He recognized the man in front of him. Jim was in charge of the stables and the horses. From the corner of his eye, Warren registered that Remy had put on some sweat pants and was now joining them.

 

"We just heard that a fire's eating its way over to the ranch. It's burning everything that blocks its path," Jim informed his boss. "It'll reach the ranch in less than an hour."

 

"Damn!" Warren cursed. "Why didn't you inform me sooner?"

 

"We didn't know." Jim looked embarrassed. "I've never seen a fire spread that quickly."

 

"Rem, stay here." Warren smothered his lover's protest by saying, "They'll probably start bringing in injured people and I need someone in charge here. If we can't stop the fire, you've got to evacuate everyone." Warren quickly collected his boots and coat and slid into them. "I need you here, Rem."

 

Remy stopped himself from protesting. Warren was probably right, but he wished he could stay at his lover's side. "I'll take care of de people."

 

"Thanks," Warren whispered and quickly pressed a kiss on his lover's lips. "You know what to do, Rem. Don't doubt yourself, you hear me? We'll stay in radio contact. Okay?"

 

Remy watched as Warren dashed into the corridor. He realized that the threat was serious. From all over the house he was picking up on people's fear and panic. Remy quickly grabbed a pair of jeans, and a heavy sweater and changed into them.

 

He'd have to check up on people and start planning a possible evacuation.

 

"Remy? What's going on?"

 

Remy looked up and found Jayce standing in the doorway. The boy was still wearing his pajamas and was obviously half asleep. Suddenly, he realized that Jayce had said his name without any loathing in it. In spite of their dire situation, Remy smiled. "Get dressed properly, petit. A fire's headin' our way. We might have to leave in a hurry."

 

Jayce tried to understand what Remy had told him. "A fire?"

 

"Oui, it's comin' dis way. We have to take care of de personnel. See if dere are any old people dat require help? Get movin', petit."

 

Jayce blinked his eyes. "You want me to help?" There had been a fire once at the school and they'd dismissed him when he'd offered to help.

 

"Oui, petit, now move!" Amused, Remy watched as Jayce started to run. Jayce was a good kid, but awfully confused. "Now what?" he wondered. He had to assemble the people that had stayed behind after Warren had taken the rest to fight the fire.

 

///

 

Jayce halted dead in his tracks when he reached his room. He quickly went inside, slammed the door and leaned heavily against it. Suddenly, it struck him how badly he'd misjudged Remy. //I had it all wrong. Oh my God, the things I said! I can't face him again, not now, not now I know that the cares!// Jayce paced his room and then threw his backpack on the bed. Frantically, he stuffed it with clothes.

 

//I can't stay here! Not after the things I've said. I called him a faggot, and... Shit, why did I do that? I acted like a prejudiced jerk. Warren and Remy can't want me around after the way I behaved and I won't get a better chance to leave unnoticed. I still got my credit cards. I can head for the next big city and... arrange for my transport back to Saint Andrew's.//

 

Jayce quickly dressed and grabbed his backpack. No one would pay him any attention. //It's a good thing that Wolvie stayed with Remy, or he might have stopped me. That wolf is way too intelligent!//

 

Sneaking through the corridor, Jayce observed Remy take charge. The Cajun seemed driven and Remy's concern for the injured workers showed in his voice and gentle touches. //How could I make such a mistake in judgement? Why didn't I see the real Remy? I always prided myself on being there for the younger pupils and now that I really needed my wits, they let me down.//

 

Jayce turned around, left the house and continued to walk. He didn't look back.

 

///

 

Part 11

 

Westchester

 

"Scott?" Cheerfully, Bobby walked into the living room. Nicholas was at his side and they both looked radiant.

 

"Bobby, Nicholas," Scott greeted them. He was in the middle of eating breakfast when the two men arrived. They were alone in the living room and Scott remarked, "Did you talk things through?"

 

Bobby had told Nicholas that Scott knew of his doubts and that it was because of Slim that he'd decided to seek out his lover. "Yeah, we did and Nicholas wants to tell you something."

 

Now that his father was out of reach, Nicholas had made some personal decisions. "My father sent me here to watch over Remy. Jean-Luc didn't want to take the risk that Rogue turned you against Remy."

 

Surprised, Scott raised an eyebrow. Had he heard correctly? "Jean-Luc LeBeau is your father?"

 

"Yes, but Remy has never met me. He doesn't know." Nicholas leaned into the embrace, as Bobby folded one arm around his shoulders. "I can't reach Jean-Luc any longer and we decided you should know. However, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the others."

 

Scott nodded his head once. "I understand your concern. I won't tell the rest." Scott took a moment to study both men. "Are you going to stay now, Nicholas?"

 

"Yes." Nicholas lovingly looked at Bobby. "We'll try to repair the damage. I really love Bobby."

 

"Good," Scott stated, pleased. He was about to add something when Joseph walked into the room. Scott could tell from the look on Joseph's face that something unexpected had happened.

 

"We just received a message from Corsair," Joseph informed them.

 

Scott shifted nervously on his chair. "What message?" He'd been trying to reach his father since he'd found out that Remy was his younger brother. Had Corsair finally received his message or was this just coincidence?

 

"He'll arrive in 20 hours." Joseph grinned as he caught a glance of Bobby and Nicholas. The two men were obviously in love.

 

"Thanks for telling me," Scott mumbled, nervously. Corsair would be here in 20 hours and then he had to tell his father that the baby, whom Corsair presumed dead, had survived after all. Fighting down a light panic, Scott watched Joseph leave. //How to break the news to Corsair? Tell him that Sinister arranged for the baby's abduction? That his son is still alive? You never met him, dad, but Gambit's been with the X-men for some time. How do I tell him that the team left Remy to die in Antarctica?//

 

"Scott?" Bobby released Nicholas and walked over to Scott, who had a distant expression in his eyes. "Corsair coming here is a good thing. You'll tell him about Remy, won't you? Remy has every right to meet his biological father."

 

Nicholas registered the information. He knew that Jean-Luc had adopted Remy, but it was new to him that they'd found out who his biological father was.

 

"I don't know how to tell Corsair," Scott admitted eventually.

 

"You'll find a way." Confident in his friend's abilities, Bobby squeezed Scott's shoulder.

 

///

 

Richmond to Florida

 

"We're going to attempt a controlled landing," the pilot announced and panic broke loose.

 

"We're gonna crash!" Logan corrected the pilot in a sarcastic tone. He considered their options. "There must be somethin' we can do!"

 

Jean-Luc sat quietly and shook his head. "You can't stop de plane from crashing."

 

"We should have taken the Black Bird," Logan cursed as the plane suddenly lost height.

 

"You'd better hold on, cher." Jean-Luc stared at the hysterical passengers that were either screaming or praying.

 

"Ya don't seem too concerned," Logan pointed out to him. The plane dove forward and continued to fall.

 

"We can't stop de plane from crashing," Jean-Luc stated rather calmly. Logan stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "After de crash we'll help de survivors to de best of our abilities. Dis is out of our hands."

 

"Who do ya think is behind this?"

 

Jean-Luc remained silent, lost in thought.

 

All conversation stopped as the plane made contact with the Earth.

 

///

 

"Mon Dieu," Jean-Luc gasped. Almost 20 people had died in the crash. Others were badly injured. "How are you doing, cher?"

 

"Healin' power's kickin' in," Logan mumbled as his spine recovered from the impact. "I'll be fine." Logan stared at the dying flames around them. "We need to help them." One look at Jean-Luc told Logan that the man would be fine. Jean-Luc had only sustained a broken wrist and the elixir of eternal life would keep the Cajun going. Logan ripped off a piece of cloth from his coat and bandaged his lover's broken wrist. "Let's move. Some of those people are in a bad shape."

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head. "We need a first-aid kit, cher."

 

"Why don't ya get things organized? Separate the critically injured from the people with minor injuries." Logan stalked through the remains of the plane and cringed as the stench of burned flesh attacked his nostrils. He hoped that Jean-Luc was wrong and that no one had arranged this plane crash.

 

15 minutes later, he returned to Jean-Luc with the first-aid kit that he'd found. "The pilots are dead," he told his lover, who was trying to stop a young man's bleeding. A steel rod had eaten itself a way through the man's shoulder. Applying more pressure, Jean-Luc told Logan to help him. They worked silently for a few minutes and then moved on to the next critically injured passenger.

 

"Dere are too many," Jean-Luc whispered, saddened. "We can't help dem all."

 

Luckily, some of the survivors followed their example and tried to help their fellow passengers.

 

While Logan concentrated on applying first-aid, Jean-Luc and the other survivors began constructing a camp at some distance from the plane. Then he realized that he had to take care of the deceased passengers. The hot sun already attacked their remains and the stench would quickly become unbearable.

 

"We'll bury them," Logan said, finishing Jean-Luc's thoughts.

 

Jean-Luc stared hard at the remains of a young girl. She couldn't be older than 14. "Someone sabotaged de plane, Logan."

 

Logan noticed the sharp tone in his lover's voice. Jean-Luc was mad as hell. "Any idea who?"

 

"Non, but we'll find out."

 

"Why don't ya look after the passengers? I'll take care of the corpses," Logan offered.

 

"Non, we'll bury dem together. Will be hard on both of us, but I won't let you do it alone." Stubbornly, Jean-Luc stared into Logan's eyes.

 

"Look, Cajun. Yer wrist is broken. Ya won't be much help." Logan's voice sounded gentle. "I can deal with it."

 

Still reluctant, Jean-Luc finally gave in. "Call me should you need help?"

 

"I will," Logan promised. To his surprise a handful of the passengers offered to help dig the graves and Logan considered refusing them until one man told him that the young girl who had died was his daughter. Logan gave in and led the men to the spot where he intended to bury the dead.

 

Jean-Luc glared at the sky. "Coward," he hissed angrily. "If you want us, you'll have to come and get us. All you accomplished was killing innocent people!" His eyes watered as he watched the father carry his daughter to her last resting place. "You'll pay for dis!"

 

///

 

Three hours later, Jean-Luc had the improvised camp pretty much organized. Logan had offered to scout ahead in search of food and water and had returned with fruits. After telling the survivors where they could find the fruits, Logan watched them leave. They would bring back enough food to keep everyone alive.

 

A few of the injured people were getting worse, their fever climbing. Some were getting better. Jean-Luc was simply growing frustrated.

 

"Easy, Cajun. Yer doin' all ya can," Logan reassured him.

 

"I want to make de person pay who did dis."

 

"Yer really convinced someone staged this crash?" Logan didn't know what to make of Jean-Luc's accusations.

 

"Oui!" Jean-Luc placed a wet cloth onto a woman's brow, who was burning up with fever. "I'm sure!"

 

Logan wanted to ask Jean-Luc why he was that certain when a loud explosion shook the earth beneath their feet. At first, Logan thought it was the plane, but then he smelled the gas that filled the sky. "Tear gas!"

 

Jean-Luc fell onto his knees when the aggressive gas attacked his neural system. "Cher!" He coughed and was only faintly aware of the fact that Logan hauled him to his feet.

 

"Damn Cajun was right!" Logan cursed and dragged Jean-Luc, who was nearly unconscious, over to the cover of the trees. Looking over his shoulder, he saw several passengers succumb to the gas. He could no longer deny that Jean-Luc had been right. It certainly looked like someone wanted them. "Well, they won't get us!"

 

"Oh, I'm afraid you're wrong, Wolverine."

 

Logan wanted to spin around, but Jean-Luc's dead weight prevented him from moving with his normal speed. A tranquilizer dart hit the back of his neck. Although it wouldn't render him helpless for long, his body needed time to deal with the chemical and he dropped to his knees, swaying. A moment later, something hard crashed into Logan's skull and he lost consciousness.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Rem? We've got the fire under control. You don't have to evacuate."

 

Remy sighed, relieved. Although they could only talk over the radio, it felt good to hear Warren's voice again. He needed a beacon in this whirlpool of negative emotions that surrounded him. His shields were weakening, but thankfully the workers began to calm down, as they heard the good news over the radio. "Bien, Warren."

 

"How are the injured people doing?" Warren asked. He then shouted instructions at the workers, which were closest to the fire. His wings had already saved the lives of several people, who had been surprised by the fire. Warren had flown them out.

 

"I managed to heal some of dem," Remy replied truthfully. The workers had given him an odd look when he'd placed his hands on their injuries. In most cases the wound had started to heal. He had to be careful not to exhaust himself while concentrating on one injury. A large number of people needed his help. Now, he felt drained and tired. Using his healing power demanded most of his energy.

 

"I'll be back in a few hours," Warren informed Remy. "Make sure there's no panic?"

 

"I calmed dem down," Remy assured him. He wasn't sure if he'd used his empathy to talk some sense into the workers, but eventually the panic had subsided and the people had settled down.

 

"Remy?" One of maids called out to him. "Steve's getting worse."

 

"I've got to go, cher. Come back quickly," Remy whispered and handed over the radio to one of the workers, who would monitor the current situation closely. Remy quickly followed the young girl. Steve was one of the hands that helped Jim with the horses and the elderly man had suffered a heart attack and severe burns when he'd helped Warren earlier.

 

Remy sat on his heels and placed his right hand over Steve's heart. The man had nearly stopped breathing. Concentrating on his healing powers, Remy let the golden glow seep into Steve's body.

 

"Thank... you," Steve rasped a moment later when his breathing eased down. "Was... suffocating..."

 

"Y're welcome." A beaming smile flashed across Remy's features. He really loved having this healing power because it enabled him to help people.

 

Looking around, he suddenly wondered where Jayce was. He hadn't seen the boy since he'd told Jayce to get dressed and help the older workers. "Janet," he said, as he addressed the maid. "Have you seen Jason?"

 

The girl looked about. "No, I haven't."

 

Worried, Remy got to his feet and tried to focus on Jayce. Usually, the boy's feelings pulled him close, but the emotions were gone now. "Merde!" he cursed and hurried towards the boy's room. When he opened the door, he realized what had happened. The room was a mess and Remy noticed that the kid's backpack was gone, together with some clothes. "He ran 'way!" Remy didn't stop to consider his actions. He immediately went after the boy. Somehow, he'd find Jayce.

 

///

 

Remy's thoughts ran in endless circles as he set foot on the mainland. "Go back to de ranch," he instructed. "Dey need all de help dey can get." He'd been lucky that this worker had still been on board. The man had also told Remy that he'd taken Jayce to the mainland. "De fire's under control, mais y' never know what will happen next."

 

"Yes, sir," the worker replied and turned the boat around.

 

Remy watched him leave and then looked about. He needed some form of transportation. Luckily, the jeeps that had taken them here were still parked nearby. Remy relied on his old thieving skills to open the door and hotwire the engine.

 

"Where did y' go, petit?" Remy concentrated, trying to locate the boy's emotions. He caught a very faint echo, after filtering all other people out. Jayce's emotions tasted raw. Remy sensed the youngster's confusion, fear and loneliness. What had possessed Jayce to run away like that? Remy vowed to find out.

 

The jeep picked up speed and Remy headed for the next city, Tampa, praying that Jayce hadn't run into trouble yet. The boy's emotions were dark and tangled, but Remy felt reassured as long as he sensed Jayce. //Why? Why did he run? I t'ought we were doin' bien. He seemed less hostile, even friendly. Why run 'way? Did I do somet'in' wrong?// Remy felt guilty for not paying more attention to what was going on with the boy. After Warren had left to fight the fire, the boy had become his responsibility and he'd messed up. Angry with himself, Remy stepped on the gas, eager to find Jayce as quickly as possible.

 

Long minutes passed by and Remy started to wonder how Jayce had been able to cover this distance. The boy must have gotten a ride from someone who'd passed by, but who would be out here in the midst of the night? //What if I can' find him? Non, I can' t'ink like dat! I *will* find him!//

 

Remy slammed onto on the brakes as the faint echo of Jayce's emotions suddenly died. Only a moment ago it'd felt like he was getting closer, as the boy's emotions had grown stronger. Now, they were gone. "Oh, merde!" Remy shivered. It felt like Jayce had stopped to exist.

 

///

 

Tampa

 

Jayce thanked the friendly woman who'd given him a lift into town.

 

"Be careful, sweetie. The city's a dangerous place for a young boy like you. Go find your parents."

 

Jayce had told her that his parents lived here and that information had made her cooperative. She'd almost pulled him into the car to deliver him home safely. "I will. Thanks for the ride." He felt a little guilty for telling the nice lady lies, but he had to get away from Honeymoon Island... and his mistakes.

 

The car drove off, leaving him alone. Jayce looked about and wondered where to go next. "Transportation," he mumbled softly. Maybe he could catch a bus home. What about traveling by plane? They would ask for his papers, which he didn't have. And what if someone came looking for him? In that case they'd probably check the airport first. "Hey, who should come looking for me?" Jayce didn't believe for one second that Remy or Warren would come after him. The two men were probably still caught up fighting the fire. Maybe Warren would ask Vincent to find him, but Jayce doubted it.

 

"Let's try Greyhound first." Jayce swung his backpack over his shoulder and walked down the street. It was busy even though it was almost midnight. He'd seldom been outside this late. They had to go to bed at 22.00 at school and when they'd been visiting a town his father had accompanied him. Now he found himself in unfamiliar territory.

 

"Can you spare some change, son? I'm a veteran, lost my right leg in Nam."

 

Startled, Jayce jumped back. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed the beggars that were moving closer. There were at least 6 of them and he realized he'd ended up in a bad area. "I don't have any money," he whispered and tightened his hold on his backpack. All he had was his credit card.

 

"A cute kid like you must have something to eat. Did your mummy make you sandwiches?" the beggar asked.

 

Another beggar interrupted him. "What's a kid like you doing on the streets this late? You'd better run home, boy!"

 

Jayce clutched his coat closer to his body. Why were these people out on the streets? Weren't there any shelters where they could spend the night? "Leave me alone! I don't have food or money!" Panicking, Jayce started to run.

 

A wave of laughter erupted behind him. Once the voices had faded, he stopped running and leaned heavily against a wall, trying to catch his breath. "I need to find a hotel where I can spend the night," he realized, but as he looked about, he only saw neglected houses. He'd walked straight into the city's slums.

 

"Hey, Leroy, look what the cat dragged in!"

 

The voice sounded nearby and Jayce pushed himself closer to the wall. His eyes had gotten used to the darkness and he made out five forms. Damn, why wasn't the street lighting working? He could hardly see a thing. Were there 5 people out there or more?

 

"I want those boots!"

 

"I dig that coat. I bet it's warm!"

 

Jayce registered the voices and shrunk into himself, trying to make himself invisible. He didn't stand a chance fighting these street kids. Now that the full moon appeared from behind the clouds, Jayce noticed their haggard looks, too skinny, too bruised and way too vicious looking to put his troubled mind at ease.

 

"Hand over the backpack and strip, rich kid."

 

"I'm not rich!" Jayce exclaimed in a loud tone, hoping to attract attention from someone who could help him. "I don't have any money!" Startled, he stared at them as the kids moved in closer. Why weren't they at home with their parents? Why weren't they in bed, asleep? What were they doing here after midnight? //What the hell am *I* doing here?// He should have stayed at the ranch where he was safe.

 

"You smell of money, brat. You're wearing Nikes, expensive clothes and that's a Kipling backpack!" One of the boys lit a cigarette and reached out for him. "You wanna do this the hard way?"

 

Jayce needed a moment to think it over, but the street kids were impatient and attacked. Defensively, Jayce raised his arms and tried to protect his head. Suddenly, one of the kids kicked his legs from underneath him and he dropped onto his knees. More kicks followed and one fist connected with his chin, knocking Jayce out cold. He collapsed onto the concrete and lost consciousness.

 

///

 

A moan left Jayce's lips as he regained consciousness. He felt awfully cold and his body hurt. His stomach felt tender and his temples throbbed painfully. As he wanted to crawl onto his knees, he released a yelp of pain. "Ouch," he whispered, realizing that his left knee might be broken. He also tasted the metallic sting of blood on his tongue. //Please, don't let me be bleeding internally.// He didn't even know where to find the nearest hospital. 

 

"I'm so stupid," Jayce chided himself. "I had it all!" Tears flowed down his face as he realized that he'd thrown everything away. Warren had offered him a *permanent* home and he'd turned it down. And why? Because he'd allowed prejudice to control his rational thinking.

 

He looked down and realized that his backpack was gone. They'd also taken his Nikes, coat and sweater. All he had left were his jeans and a T-shirt. Damn! His wallet was gone too. //They took my credit card!//

 

Jayce no longer fought his tears and released them. The cold of the concrete sneaked through his clothes and into his bones. His left knee hurt and his head felt like it would explode any moment now. Sobbing softly, he wondered what to do. He'd never expected to fall into the hands of criminals.

 

"Daddy," he whimpered softly, but then the terrible memories crashed over him again. "He's dead," Jayce whispered and rocked himself. He'd never felt so alone, so helpless. "Uncle Warren... Remy..." The words brought no comfort, knowing how badly he'd treated the two men. "I'm sorry." And this time he really meant it.

 

///

 

Remy halted in his tracks. For the last 30 minutes he'd failed to pick up on Jayce's emotions, but now, the faint echo was back. There were many people around and that made it hard for him to pinpoint Jayce's location. As he started to walk, he quickly realized that he was leaving the main street and heading for dark and shadowy alleyways. Why had the boy chosen this direction? Desperation and a sense of loss filled this particular part of the city and Remy felt people's anger at being forced to live in the slums. Their living conditions were bad, unemployment high and the kids dropped out of school too early.

 

"Jayce, where are y', petit?" Remy mused aloud and he stopped walking to get his bearings. The echo of Jayce's emotions guided him and Remy followed his instincts. People were watching him closely. A warning was in order or they might decide to move in on him. He reached for the deck of cards he always carried with him and charged two cards. Their light helped him find his way and also served as a warning, as he allowed one of them to explode. The stench of violence subdued a little. His trick had worked. They now kept their distance.

 

"Jayce?" he repeated the boy's name again, hoping Jayce would answer him. The youngster felt close and Remy briefly shut his eyes to focus on the emotions. "I'm comin' for y', petit, don' give up." The sense of abandonment that Jayce radiated was overwhelming.

 

Remy headed towards a large garbage can and pushed it aside. "Oh, petit," he whispered, saddened. Jayce had used the garbage can to hide behind. Remy sat on his heels and pushed back Jayce's dirty locks, which were covered with dried blood.

 

"Jayce? Petit? Can y' hear me?" Reaching out empathically, he tried to get a better impression of the boy's emotional condition. Jayce's mind felt empty and lonely. "Hey, open y'r eyes, petit. We've got to leave dis part of town."

 

Jayce struggled to open his eyes. The right side of his face was black and blue and Jayce desperately tried to determine whether a friend or a bully was talking to him. "Who's... there?"

 

"It's moi, Remy. Y'll be bien, petit." Remy felt how panic overwhelmed Jayce. "Non, petit, don' be 'fraid. I'll take care of y'." Remy wondered what to do next. Should he get Jayce into safety or heal his injuries first? He could carry the boy, but doubted Jayce would go along with that.

 

"Why... are you... here?" Jayce whispered. His mouth felt awfully dry. His lower lip had been split and blood dripped down his chin.

 

Remy made his decision. He'd start the healing process and then take Jayce into safety. "Shst, be quiet, petit. Y're hurt." Remy rested his right hand on the top of Jayce's head. "Dis might tingle."

 

Jayce managed to lock eyes with Remy. He still couldn't believe that Remy had come for him. "What are you... doing?" Remy was right. His head tingled a little and an odd warmth descended down his neck, shoulders, chest, into his left leg, finally reaching his injured knee.

 

"Takin' de pain 'way," Remy whispered reassuringly. "Y'll feel better soon, petit."

 

"I'm sorry," Jayce mumbled. He surrendered to the comfortable warmth that settled into his abused bones.

 

"Why did y' run 'way, petit?" Remy drew in a deep breath. He'd healed a large number of people back at the ranch and hadn't had the time to recover from the power drain. Now Jayce needed his help, but Remy was quickly reaching his limits. "I've got to stop, sorry, petit." He pulled away his hand. If he exhausted himself, he wouldn't be able to get them into safety.

 

"I couldn't face you," Jayce admitted, feeling better already. His knee still ached, but the stinging pain was mostly gone. "I never gave you a chance. I just assumed I knew who you were, what you were."

 

"Sounds like y' learned y'r lesson, petit." Remy got to his feet and helped Jayce up from the concrete. "We should go to de 'ospital."

 

"I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine." Jayce didn't want to trouble Remy. "I'd like to lie down though."

 

"We'll find ourselves a comfortable 'otel, oui?" Jayce swayed on his feet, clearly favoring his left leg and Remy folded a supportive arm around the boy's waist. "Bien?" He didn't want to make Jayce feel threatened, so he wanted to know if this was okay with the boy.

 

"Oui," Jayce replied, shyly. He really wanted to make up for past mistakes and it looked like Remy was willing to give him a second chance.

 

"Ah, y' took French at school?" Remy tried to engage Jayce in some conversation to take the boy's mind off his surroundings and the pain.

 

"I was trying to get back to Saint Andrew's," Jayce explained. "I didn't think anyone would attack me."

 

Remy's eyes grew clouded, as he remembered the years he'd spent on the streets of New Orleans. "People are hungry, petit. Dey don' have any money. Sometimes takin' it from de weak is de only way to survive."

 

"You talk like you know them personally," Jayce remarked and peeked at Remy's draped eyes.

 

"I lived on de streets when I was younger dan y're now, Jayce."

 

"You lived on the streets?" Jayce repeated, surprised.

 

"Didn' have a family, Jayce. Had to support m'self. Got beaten up like y' did." Remy wasn't sure Jayce was ready to hear this, but continued. "Ate from garbage cans, begged people to give me deir change and sometimes, I stole de food when I was hungry."

 

"And no one took care of you?" Jayce gestured Remy to stop walking. They were almost back on the main street. Only a few more steps and they would leave the darkness behind.

 

"My parents didn' know dat I was still 'live. I lived wit'... a vile old man." Remy shivered, as the face of the Antiquary blinked in his mind.

 

"Vile?" Jayce's stomach contracted nervously and it wasn't because of the beating he'd taken. Everything he'd ever believed in was swept away. Remy's choice of words made him wonder; vile?

 

"I can' tell y' now," Remy said evasively. He concentrated on supporting Jayce as they moved towards the main street.

 

"Remy?" Jayce raised his right hand, following a hunch he couldn't really believe. But when Remy flinched away from his touch, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The boy whom Carl had attacked had reacted in the same way when Jayce had tried to shake his hand while saying good-bye. //Oh my God, I can't believe this! Martin flinched like that when I tried to touch him. Can't be. This can't be happening. A vile man?// Jayce knew that he'd reached the only logical conclusion, but the impact of his former accusations hit him hard. //I assumed he was taking advantage of Warren. That Remy was like Carl but... Remy's been abused in the past. Fuck...// He'd felt bad before, but now he felt like a bully. "I'm sorry, Remy. I didn't know..." Jayce mumbled his apology, which came straight from the heart. "I..."

 

"Stop it, petit. It doesn' matter. I need to get y' home." Remy realized that Jayce had figured it out and he didn't know how he felt about that.

 

"Jayce," Remy started, but paused as something sharp penetrated the skin at the back of his neck. "Merde, what...?" Remy swayed on his feet as vertigo made his head spin.

 

Jayce leaned against a nearby wall and watched horrified how Remy went down. The gold on black eyes closed and Remy's mouth remained slightly agape. "Remy?"

 

"At last..." A dark voice hissed the words.

 

Jayce turned around as quickly as he could, cursing his injuries. In the shadows he made out the vague contours of a man. "What did you do to him?"

 

"Shut up, Jason."

 

Jayce's hand went to his throat as a small dart broke the skin there. "Who... what?" he whispered, as he slid onto the concrete.

 

"At last, revenge will be mine!"

 

Part 12

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"You did a great job, guys! We beat that fire because we worked *together*!" Proud, Warren congratulated his personnel, which had done a wonderful job in putting out the fire. There had been times when he'd thought that they'd lose that battle, but they had proven him wrong. "We saved the ranch and all our people!" Warren smiled warmly, pleased that his men had pulled through.

 

Their jeeps had reached the ranch and Warren didn't waste any time. He jumped out of the jeep and hurried inside to find his lover. The first thing that struck him was that all the injured people were taken care of. Remy had lived up to his expectations and had taken charge of the situation. It looked like his lover had outdone himself.

 

"Mister Worthington!" Steve softly called his boss' name.

 

"Steve." Warren sat on his heels and took in the older man's appearance. "You don't look that great." Steve had been the one who'd taught him how to ride on horseback and Warren had a soft spot for him.

 

"Remy helped me." Steve still felt weak, but wanted Warren to know what had happened.

 

"Yeah, Rem loves to help people."

 

"I had a heart attack and suffered severe burns, but they're almost gone now. I can breathe again. The tightness in my chest's gone."

 

Warren nodded his head once. Remy had obviously used his healing power. "We'll take you to the hospital." He beckoned Jim and gave all necessary instructions.

 

"Remy's a good man," Steve whispered, as he drifted off to sleep again.

 

"Yeah, he is," Warren agreed and helped his men carry Steve into the jeep. "Make sure he gets proper medical treatment," Warren instructed Jim, who'd accompany Steve. After he watched the jeep drive off, he stepped back into the house. Where was Remy? Warren had expected his lover to be there to greet him when he returned to the ranch. "Remy? Where are you?" he whispered, softly, as he searched for his lover.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

Warren recognized the voice as belonging to the maid. "Janet?"

 

"Yes, sir," she replied, shyly. "Are you looking for... Remy?"

 

Amused, Warren grinned. Everyone called him mister Worthington, but no one seemed to call Remy, mister LeBeau. They all used Remy and that told Warren a lot about his lover's popularity. Apparently, the personnel already felt comfortable taking orders from the Cajun. "Yes, do you know where I can find him?"

 

"He left."

 

"What?" Warren exclaimed the word in an agitated tone. "He did *what*?"

 

"Remy was searching for Jason, but couldn't find the boy. The last time I saw Remy was when he dashed outside." Janet noticed Warren's concerned expression. She couldn't help being worried too.

 

An angry growl drew Warren's attention away from Janet. "Wolvie?" When he'd heard that Remy'd left, he'd hoped that his lover had taken the wolf with him. Remy seemed to attract trouble and the canine would have provided extra protection. "Why did you let them leave?" Warren shook his head, realizing he was addressing a wolf. "Never mind. We've got to find them. Come on, boy." Warren signaled the canine to follow him.

 

"Janet? Make sure the wounded are taken care of?" Warren looked at the girl. "I'll be back as soon as possible. Hopefully, Remy's still close."

 

"I'll look after them," Janet promised and watched them leave, hoping they would quickly find Remy and Jason.

 

"Get into the jeep," Warren told Wolvie and then slid behind the wheel himself. He started the engine and was about to step on the gas when he realized that he didn't know where Remy was headed. "Damn, now what?" Had Remy already left the island? Where was Jayce? Had Remy found the boy? Had they covered the distance to the mainland? "I don't know where they went," he whispered, feeling miserable.

 

Wolvie, who had sat quietly next to him, glared at Warren. A deep growl left his throat and he placed one paw on Warren's right hand, which rested on the steering wheel.

 

"I know that we need to get going, but where to?" Warren sighed, as he finally stepped on the gas. "Are they still on the island or..." Wolvie's throaty growl interrupted him. "What?" Warren stared at Wolvie, whose growls grew harder as they headed for the landing stage. With his sharp vision Warren had long established that the boat was still there. "They didn't leave the island," he told Wolvie.

 

A growl that sounded too much like a 'no' echoed in the jeep. "You think that they're on the mainland already?" Warren raised an eyebrow as Wolvie released another growl. "Well, your guess is as good as mine," he whispered, feeling discouraged. "So you can 'talk' after all."

 

Warren could have sworn that Wolvie gave him an amused glance. "What? At times, when I talk to you, I actually expect an answer. I still wonder about you," he mumbled, as he kept a close eye on the canine. "You seem to adore Remy and just put up with me, but why? You're a canine, a wolf. Why stay with us? And by the way, now that we're talking about this, how did you, a wolf, end up in Ireland? There are no wolfs in Ireland!"

 

Wolvie bared his teeth, his version of a grin. Warren was asking way too many questions.

 

"It finally happened," Warren commented dryly. "I lost my mind. Oh Rem..." 

 

They'd reached the landing stage and Wolvie leaped outside through the turned down window. Warren followed the canine, now seriously wondering about the wolf. Was there more to Wolvie than met the eye?

 

///

 

Once they'd reached the mainland, Warren pulled over, climbed out of the jeep and spread the map on the hood of the car. Studying the map, he felt lost. "Shit, what do I do now?"

 

Wolvie stalked over to Warren and put his right front paw down on the map.

 

"Huh?" Confused, Warren sought out the wolf's eyes. "That's Tampa! You think we'll find them there?" Okay, he was now convinced that Wolvie was holding out on him. "Are you really a wolf?"

 

Wolvie growled softly and moved closer. Then he dragged his long, wet tongue over Warren's cheek.

 

"Oh man! That's gross! You did that on purpose!" Warren used his sleeve to wipe off the wolf's saliva. "I can't believe you did that!" He'd seen Wolvie lick Remy's face on several occasions, but back then it had been an expression of affection. Warren wasn't sure how to interpret Wolvie's move now.

 

The canine smirked, showing his teeth and then jumped back into the jeep. Using his paw, he honked.

 

Warren jumped, hearing the unexpected sound. "Yes, I'm coming! Give me a moment to fold the map!" Slightly stunned, he slid back onto his seat and started the engine. "Tampa, here we come!" Warren wouldn't admit it out loud, but secretly he was thankful that Wolvie was tagging along, because it kept him from brooding the entire time. //Remy, where are you? Did you find Jayce? Please be all right...//

 

///

 

Westchester

 

Nervously, Scott paced his room. Thankfully, Jean was too busy with the last stages of her experiment to make him talk about his feelings. Right now, Scott wanted some privacy. He had to prepare himself for one of the hardest conversations in his life. The only conversation that came close was when he'd sought out Remy to tell him that they were brothers. Now he had to tell his father that Remy had survived Sinister's manipulation.

 

Checking the time, Scott realized that Corsair was scheduled to arrive in less than 30 minutes. The Starjammers would drop Corsair off and wait for his signal to pick up their leader again. Scott felt relieved that he'd get the chance to talk to his father one on one, as this was a very delicate matter.

 

"Scott? Corsair's early!" Bobby forgot to knock as he threw the door open. Concerned for his friend, he made eye contact with Scott. "The Starjammers are about to leave again. Corsair's waiting for you in the living room!"

 

Scott was jolted into nervousness by Bobby's announcement. "I'm not ready yet!" Scott exclaimed upset. "I don't know what to say."

 

"Why don't you start by showing Corsair that certificate you got in the mail? That would give Corsair a chance to explain things to you. You could take it from there, Slim." Bobby didn't envy Scott right now. "Want me to stick around for moral support?"

 

"Thanks, Bobby, but I've got to do this on my own." Scott drew in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to talk to his father and then squeezed Bobby's shoulder. "I really appreciate the offer, but you'd better join Nicholas." Scott had heard the whispers and giggles that had emanated from Bobby's room earlier.

 

"You don't mind Nicholas staying here, do you? He'd already cleared out his apartment."

 

"He can stay," Scott said and smiled, using this little conversation to postpone the inevitable.

 

"Go and tell him, Slim." Bobby smiled smugly and pushed Scott towards the doorway. "He'll be so glad to find out that the baby didn't die."

 

Hesitantly, Scott headed for the living room and found Corsair pacing. His father was apparently worried about something. "Corsair," Scott said eventually, after gathering his courage.

 

"Scott! Son! Your message sounded urgent!" Corsair walked towards his son and briefly hugged him. The long years apart had left scars. They'd never be really close, but he was determined to keep working on strengthening their relationship.

 

"Yes, we need to talk." Scott endured the hug, hoping that one day he'd feel more comfortable returning Corsair's obvious affection. After all these years it still felt odd to have his father back. "Let's sit down first."

 

Taken aback by Scott's serious tone, Corsair sat down opposite his son. "Scott, what's going on? Your message said that you *had* to talk to me."

 

"I got this in the mail a few weeks ago," Scott said and handed Corsair the certificate.

 

Curiously, Corsair took hold of the piece of paper and studied it. He grew pale, realizing what he was holding in his hands. "You got this in the mail? Who sent it?"

 

"I don't know. But dad, don't you owe me an explanation? Why didn't you tell me that I had another brother?" Scott was trying to handle this to the best of his ability. He didn't want to spring the fact that Remy was alive on his father without warning.

 

"I don't know where to start," Corsair admitted, as he stared at the certificate. The baby had died and a part of his heart had crumbled with it. "Katherine discovered that she was pregnant and we sought out this doctor that the hospital recommended. His name was Nathaniel Essex."

 

"Sinister." Scott nodded his head, not surprised to hear that Sinister had tried to manipulate his parents so many years ago.

 

"I didn't know that at the time," Corsair reminded Scott. Now that he held the certificate in his hand, memories, which he'd pushed away, resurfaced. "Essex told us that the foetus wasn't developing the way it should. There would be severe complications and if the baby survived, it would be a premature birth."

 

Scott felt deeply sympathetic. "Is that why you never told me?"

 

"Considering the complications and the bad outlook for the baby, we decided not to tell you and Alex. We didn't want you to be hurt should the baby die during birth. Katherine spent most of those 7 months in New Orleans where Essex had a clinic." Corsair closed his eyes. "I flew in after Katherine called me, completely panicking. She'd lost consciousness the previous night and Essex had told her that she'd had a miscarriage. She needed me. I left you and Alex behind with friends to be with her. I was too late. The baby had died." He still remembered Katherine's sobs that had tormented him. He'd wanted this child as well.

 

"Essex signed this certificate. So did I." Corsair looked at Scott, almost pleadingly. "The baby's death almost devastated Katherine. It was hard to be there for her, to support her. I don't know if we'd made it, if we would have had to console Alex and you too."

 

Corsair reached out with his hand and Scott reacted at once, taking hold of it, squeezing gently. "Did you ever see the baby?"

 

"No, Essex told me the baby had been born deformed and that it would be best if we didn't see the boy. I still regret giving in." Corsair held onto Scott's hand, needing the support. He had never thought that he'd have to tell his son. "If only I'd known who Essex was... Some nights I startle awake, afraid that Sinister lied and that he's holding my son prisoner, using him for his tests."

 

Scott licked his lips. "Did you pick a name for the baby?"

 

"Yes, Remy. You see, Katherine once had a wonderful dream. Her eyes sparkled when she told me that she'd seen an angel in her dreams. The angel had told her that she'd give birth to a very special boy and that his name was Remy."

 

Scott raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what to make of this story, so he returned to his former line of questions. "Was there anything special about the baby? Did Essex tell you in which way he was deformed?"

 

"He told us that the baby's eyes had been red on black." Corsair smiled. "That wouldn't have made a difference to us. We'd have loved the boy as much as we loved Alex and you. Of course, at that time we didn't know that our sons were mutants. And this baby would have been a mutant too."

 

Scott got to his feet and poured both of them some whiskey. "Here, you're going to need it."

 

Corsair shot Scott a confused glance. "I'm sorry that we never told you, but... the baby died and it would only have stirred up our pain."

 

"I forgive you for not telling me," Scott said, thoughtfully. "You didn't know any better at the time."

 

"But why did you receive this certificate? Where does it come from? Why sent it now?" Frustrated, Corsair stared at his signature. //I should have demanded to see my son!// He still blamed himself for not seeing through Sinister's disguise.

 

"I don't know who sent it," Scott started, "but I think I know *why* I got it."

 

"Why?" Corsair locked eyes with his son. This conversation was tearing open old wounds.

 

"Because someone wanted to make me feel guilty." Scott prepared himself to start his own confession. "Did I ever tell you about Remy LeBeau?"

 

Corsair shook his head. "I don't recall that name." But hearing that first name hurt. //There are more people out there who named their son Remy! I shouldn't react like that, just hearing that name.//

 

"What about Gambit?"

 

"Sounds vaguely familiar," Corsair admitted. "Isn't Gambit on the team?"

 

"He was... It's a long story," Scott mumbled. "We thought he died some time ago, but he survived." Scott tried to find the right words. Why was this so damn hard?

 

"Why are we talking about Gambit now?"

 

"Dad." Scott pulled his chair closer to Corsair's and rubbed his father's hand. "His eyes are, were, red on black. His name's Remy and..."

 

"What?!" Corsair exploded and leaped to his feet. Agitated, he started to pace. "Has to be a coincidence. My son died..."

 

Scott rose from the chair, walked over to his father and grabbed Corsair's shoulders. "Listen to me," he said determinedly. "Remy didn't die. Sinister planned this because he wanted a Summers to run his tests on. However, a Cajun thief crossed his plans and abducted the baby from the clinic."

 

Stunned, Corsair could only stare at Scott.

 

"Remy had a tough childhood, you should ask him when you meet him, but he turned into a fine man." Scott drowned his whiskey in one go and slammed the glass onto the coffee table. "Your son is alive."

 

Corsair collapsed onto the chair. "He didn't die? I didn't make sure... Essex, Sinister...we believed him... We were so stupid."

 

"Stop beating yourself up over this," Scott chided his father gently. "You can't change the past, but you can be part of Remy's future."

 

"And he's been an X-Man? I didn't know. I never met Gambit..."

 

Scott nodded his head, saddened. "If I had known about the baby's peculiar eyes we might have discovered the truth earlier."

 

"Are you sure that he's your brother?" Corsair looked at Scott. "His eyes might be a coincidence..." He didn't want to believe that he'd failed Remy that badly.

 

"Hank ran a DNA test. It came back positive. Remy and I are brothers. You're his father." Scott watched Corsair very closely. His father's eyes were swimming and finally released the tears Corsair had been repressing for years.

 

"I can't believe that Remy's alive," Corsair mumbled. "What if you'd never found out?"

 

"We should thank the one who sent the certificate. We'll probably never find out who did, but it helped uncover the truth." Scott smiled reassuringly.

 

"If only Katherine had lived to see this day. She loved Remy while he was still in her womb." Corsair wiped away his tears. "Where's Remy now?" Scott was right. There was no point in dwelling on past mistakes, not while he could make up for them in the present. "Can I talk to him?"

 

"He's in Florida." Scott gestured Corsair to empty his glass.

 

Corsair did and relished the burn the alcohol left behind. It made him realize that this was really happening. He'd just gotten a son back.

 

"Do you remember Angel?"

 

Corsair nodded his head. He remembered the winged X-Man. "What about him?"

 

"Remy and Warren are lovers. They had a commitment ceremony a few weeks ago." Scott observed his father closely.

 

Corsair cocked his head. Remy had chosen to be with a man, so what? "Scott, I'm in love with someone from a different planet. Hepzibah isn't exactly human, in case you hadn't noticed." Corsair grinned.

 

Satisfied, Scott nodded his head. "We should give them a call first so Remy knows we're coming to see him."

 

"Let's send that message once we're on our way? I can't wait to see my son." Corsair guided Scott towards the doorway. "Can we use the Blackbird?"

 

"Yes, I think so. I should tell Jean and the professor that we're leaving. They're in the midst of an important experiment and I can't disturb them."

 

Corsair grabbed a pencil and a notebook from the table in the hallway. "Write them a note." Impatiently, he waited for Scott to finish. //Remy's alive. I can't believe it. How did he survive? Why did I believe Sinister when he told me that the baby hadn't made it? I've been so stupid!//

 

"Dad?" Scott noticed the distant expression in Corsair's eyes. "It wasn't your fault. Remy doesn't blame you either."

 

"He knows I'm his father?" Corsair asked to make sure.

 

"Yes, I told him after the DNA test. He was in a bad way back then. He seemed better the last time we met, but... he hinted at something that worries me." Scott wasn't sure if he should confide in his father. What Remy had told him had been confidential and Remy had to make the decision to tell his father about the childhood abuse. 

 

Corsair wanted to press the matter, but saw how stern Scott's jaw was set. His son wouldn't tell him. "Why are we wasting time? Let's get moving." Corsair placed the note next to the phone and gently nudged Scott towards the hangar. //I want to find out what Remy hinted at that obviously worries Scott.//

 

Scott and Corsair made their way into the hangar and boarded the Blackbird. "Want to fly her?" Scott asked.

 

"Sure, she's a mighty fine lady," Corsair whispered pleased and sat down in the pilot's seat. "Let's get her into the air." Corsair wanted to finally meet and get to know a son he'd assumed dead for too many years.

 

///

 

Tampa

 

"Cajun?" Logan tried to open his eyes and cursed loudly when he realized that a blindfold kept him from scanning his surroundings. Focussing his other senses, he picked up on labored breathing. "Cajun? Is that ya?"

 

"Oui, cher," Jean-Luc mumbled. "Where are we?" He'd regained consciousness only seconds ago. His broken wrist throbbed in the handcuffs he was wearing.

 

"Dunno know," Logan whispered. "We're 'lone in this room, but someone might be listenin' in. Dammit, Cajun! Ya had to be right!"

 

"Any idea who took us, cher?" Jean-Luc tried to lock out the pain. Maybe he could twist his way out of the handcuffs, but there were also ropes that tied him down to the chair he was sitting on.

 

"Nope, didn't recognize the voice." Logan pulled at the handcuffs, but they didn't give in.

 

"Can you get us out with your claws?" Jean-Luc winced mentally, as the metal of the handcuffs dug into his aching wrist.

 

"I ain't sure. I'm wearin' a collar," Logan stated confused, still affected by the sedative. "I need to get it off." He already felt the adamantium poisoning his body. Without his healing factor, it would kill him within days. It wouldn't be a nice death.

 

Jean-Luc understood. Logan had told him about the adamantium and the healing factor undoing its effects. "Let's see if dis ol' thief still remembers some tricks. It's been years since I needed dem."

 

Suddenly, they registered footfalls, which were closing in on them. Jean-Luc immediately stopped his escape attempt and feigned exhaustion. Privately, he cursed the blindfold. That way he couldn't even see their attacker. A door opened and the footfalls stopped. Jean-Luc wished he could communicate with Logan unnoticed. If only he could see Logan's eyes! His lover would understand his intentions!

 

"Well, you no longer act that cocky."

 

Jean-Luc and Logan both recognized the voice. They'd heard it before the tranquilizer darts had hit them. "What do you want?" Jean-Luc asked, knowing Logan's anger would get them into trouble. It was best if he talked to their kidnapper instead of Logan.

 

"From you? Nothing?" the stranger replied, amused.

 

Logan growled dangerously. "Gonna rip ya 'part, punk."

 

Exasperated, Jean-Luc sighed. Diplomacy would never be Logan's strongest character treat. "You didn't have to kill 20 people to get to us. You even killed a chile."

 

"The child means nothing to me."

 

Jean-Luc barely kept from flinching, hearing the emotionless tone.

 

Logan however, had no problem voicing his contempt. "Monster. The girl was only 14!"

 

"She isn't important. The only thing that matters to me is that I've captured you."

 

"Why?" Jean-Luc's anger was quickly building. Their kidnapper didn't even feel any regret at having taken a child's life!

 

"You'll die in here, that's all you need to know. You'll never again see Gambit or Archangel."

 

Logan, who'd grown quiet, tried hard to identify their attacker. He'd heard that voice before, but couldn't put a name on it. He decided against further aggravating their abductor.

 

"I hope you'll have a most unpleasant death. You'll stay alive for a few more hours, but the lack of water and food will finish you off eventually... and did I mention that you might run out of oxygen as this room will be air sealed after I've left?" An amused chuckle accompanied the words.

 

Jean-Luc realized Logan's game plan and remained quiet too. Once the stranger had left, they could work on an escape plan.

 

"Have a miserable death."

 

Jean-Luc and Logan listened as the door closed. A hiss echoed through the air as the room was sealed off. "How long do you think we have?" Jean-Luc asked, examining his handcuffs again. If only his wrist wasn't broken! Then it would have been easy to free himself.

 

"I don't know, Cajun. We've got to hurry up. Can ya get out off the cuffs?"

 

"Give him time to leave de area," Jean-Luc pointed out to Logan. "Don't want him walking in on us when I'm breaking free."

 

Impatiently, Logan tapped his foot. "Hurry up, Cajun."

 

"I'm out of practice," Jean-Luc admitted. "Need to sharpen my skills, should we get out of here in one piece."

 

"We need to get out of here, Cajun. I need to settle the score."

 

"He's going after Remy and Warren, you realize dat, don't you?" Jean-Luc said, concerned, and managed to pull his injured wrist free. "Merde," he cursed as the pain cut through his arm.

 

"What's going on?" Logan noticed the pain in Jean-Luc's voice.

 

"One more to go," Jean-Luc replied, quizzically and concentrated. He twisted his shoulder, arm, and wrist and slipped free. "Our kidnapper isn't a smart man," he remarked as he pulled off the blindfold. Looking about, he saw that they were in some sort of abandoned basement. He quickly untied his feet and moved over to his lover.

 

"I hate dat thing," Jean-Luc stated firmly, as he saw the Genoshan collar around Logan's neck. "Let me get dat off first."

 

Logan suddenly felt Jean-Luc's hand on his neck and relaxed. Even single-handedly, the Cajun was great with locks and the collar quickly opened. 

 

Disgusted, Jean-Luc threw it aside. "Let's do de blindfold next. How are you feeling, cher? Is de adamantium already causing you problems?"

 

"Nothin' that my healin' factor can't deal with," Logan assured his lover. He sighed, relieved, as Jean-Luc removed the blindfold. "Thanks."

 

Jean-Luc smiled and proceeded to undo Logan's handcuffs. "Can you do your feet yourself?" he whispered and sat down on the floor, cradling his broken wrist against his chest.

 

With one quick move, Logan's claw undid his ankle restraints. "Yer bleedin'," he said, concerned. The wrist definitely looked bad.

 

"Let's find Remy and Warren," Jean-Luc said, resolved and allowed Logan to pull him to his feet. "Dey'll need our help."

 

Logan let Jean-Luc pick the lock on their cell door and then followed his lover outside. Once this was over, he planned on asking Jean-Luc how the Cajun had known that they were in danger.

 

///

 

Tampa

 

Remy moaned softly as he woke to a splitting headache. "Merde," he whispered, disorientated. Where was he? What had happened? Then, he remembered going down after that dart had hit him. Automatically, he wanted to raise his hand to check on the puncture.

 

"Merde!" This time, his voice sounded louder. He couldn't move his hands. They were handcuffed behind his back. Opening his eyes, he quickly took in his surroundings. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to kidnap him. He was cuffed to the wall and he leaned against it for support. The basement looked medieval and water dripped from the ceiling. It was chillingly cold in here.

 

"Remy?"

 

Jayce's voice took Remy completely by surprise. "Petit!" he exclaimed in a shocked tone and he located the boy in the opposite corner of the room. "Are y' bien?" Concerned, he tried to reach out to mentally gauge Jayce's condition, but gasped, as he didn't feel the boy's emotions. Suddenly, he noticed the weight around his neck. "A collar," he whispered, nervously. His powers were useless now.

 

"Remy? I'm fine... I think," Jayce said in a shy tone. "What about you?" Some parts of his body still hurt, as Remy hadn't been able to heal his injuries completely, but the pain wasn't that bad. He could deal with it.

 

"Can y' move 'bout?" Jayce's hand didn't appear to be handcuffed and Remy encouraged the boy, as Jayce struggled to his feet.

 

"I'm a little dizzy," Jayce replied honestly.

 

"Can y' come over here?" Remy needed Jayce's help if they wanted to escape. "We can' stay here, petit."

 

"Who did this?" Slowly, Jayce made his way over to Remy. "Hey, you're handcuffed!"

 

"Jayce, listen to me. Y' need to run and get out of here." He couldn't endanger the boy. "Y' need to find Warren." Now, that should motivate Jayce to follow his instructions. "Find a way out of here, Jayce."

 

Jayce shook his head. "No way. I'm not leaving you. What's that thing around your neck?"

 

"A Genoshan collar. It keeps me from usin' my powers. Now get goin', petit!" Jayce's concern touched Remy deeply, but it was the wrong time for Jayce to grow protective of him. The boy didn't stand a chance against their kidnapper and Remy would never forgive himself, should Jayce get injured again.

 

"I won't leave you, Remy," Jayce said resolved. "You're defenseless."

 

"Petit," Remy started, trying again to talk some sense into Jayce, "We're in trouble."

 

"I can't go back out there alone," Jayce pointed out to Remy and smirked. "What if I get beat up again?"

 

Remy sighed deeply. The boy was already playing him! "Petit, we're in danger!" Roaring laughter echoed through the room and it nearly froze the blood in Remy's veins. "Jason, run! Now!" He tried to sound as convincing and authoritative as possible. "NOW!"

 

Finally, Jayce obeyed and ran in the opposite direction of the stranger who now approached Remy. Jayce looked back once and shivered, seeing their kidnapper. Remy was right. He had to find Warren. Running as hard as he possibly could, he turned left and disappeared from Remy's sight. Their kidnapper had looked like one of the monsters that chased him in his nightmares.

 

Remy felt relieved as Jayce fled the room. Hopefully, the boy was out of danger now. Slowly, he raised his eyes and took in his abductor. "Mon Dieu, what are y'?" he whispered, shocked. The 'man' in front of him no longer bore much resemblance to a human. Too bulky, too tall and too wired with technical gadgets, it almost looked alien. //A cyborg,// Remy thought confused. //Part human, part machine.//

 

The face was barely human and what shocked Remy most were the metallic wings attached to the man's back. They were an exact replica of the ones Apocalypse had given Warren. "What do y' want from me?" Remy barely managed to control the tremors that coursed through his body. The evil grin on the man's face reminded him of the way the Antiquary had devoured him with his eyes. "What are y'?" he asked again as the man only smirked smugly.

 

"Ah, manners... I should introduce myself." He walked up to Remy and glared down at the gold on black eyes. So far, everything was going according to plan. He'd let Jason escape, hoping the boy would take Warren here. "My name's Cameron Hodge and I'm going to execute you." 

 

 

Part 13

 

Tampa

 

"Cameron Hodge?" Remy's eyes grew big, suddenly realizing who stood in front of him. But Warren had never mentioned that Hodge was some sort of cyborg. And why did the man have wings? They were just like the ones Warren so abhorred. Remy shivered violently. But at least Jayce was no longer in danger. It surprised Remy though that Hodge hadn't gone after the boy. He had to stall a little longer, buy Jayce more time. "Y' took 'way ange's wings," Remy stated accusingly.

 

"I wanted to do him a favor," Hodge replied and with a demonic grin he spread his wings to full width.

 

"And now y' got some y'rself?" Remy tried to remain calm and in control of his fear. Being restrained and defenseless while facing Warren's nemesis wasn't a good thing. Hodge slowly raised a gloved hand and the leather moved along Remy's jaw line, almost caressing the skin there. Remy couldn't suppress the tremors that coursed through his body.

 

"But I use these wings to execute mutants like you. They serve a noble purpose." Hodge curled his fingers around Remy's throat and pressed... hard.

 

Remy's eyes narrowed in fright. He could tell by the feel and strength of those fingers that they were part mechanical. Unable to breathe, he briefly struggled in the chokehold and then went limp.

 

"No, not yet," Hodge said smugly and released his prisoner, who promptly fought for breath. "I want Warren to watch you die."

 

"Why?" Remy choked out. "Why do... y' hate... him?" His throat hurt and he took small, careful breaths.

 

Angered by Remy's audacity to speak up, Hodge gave his prisoner a cuff on the ear. "I don't want to hear your voice, mutant."

 

There was more power behind Hodge's flat hand than Remy had thought possible and his head slammed hard into the wall behind him. A sharp pain cut through his head and neck. "Bâtard!" Remy cursed loudly. "Free me and try dat 'gain!"

 

Hodge laughed coldly. "I'll beat that courage out of you, mutant." He uncovered a small device, which he showed Remy. "Recognize it?"

 

Remy slowly nodded his head. That little gadget controlled the Genoshan collar and could send electricity through his body. "Oui."

 

"Good, let's make sure you won't forget." Pressing the button, Hodge grinned cruelly.

 

Remy's body contorted with pain. A snaking lightning bolt seemed to reach every muscle and sinew, almost short circuiting his brain. "Aaaagghh," he groaned in pain as the electricity slammed into his heart. His healing power was off line now that he was wearing the collar and Remy suddenly felt scared.

 

No, he wasn't scared to die at Hodge's hands, but how would Warren deal with his death? Would his lover find the courage and the strength to go on without him? Just when the pain became unbearable, Hodge switched it off.

 

"That's a prelude, mutant." Pleased, Hodge yanked Remy's head back by pulling at the auburn hair. "Look at me when I talk to you." The rivulet of blood that dripped from Remy's lips made him hungry for more, but he had to pace himself. He didn't want Remy dead yet. However, that didn't mean he couldn't play with the mutant.

 

"Why?" Remy stuttered as he licked his lips, trying to get rid of the metallic taste. "Why do y' hate Warren?" That question apparently infuriated Hodge and Remy took another blow, this time aimed at his right eye.

 

"I don't hate Warren!" Hodge said, annoyed. No one understood him!

 

Remy barely managed to raise his eyes. His sight was blurry and he wondered how many more blows he'd have to endure. "Y're obsessed wit' him."

 

"Obsessed?" Hodge considered the word. "Maybe."

 

"Why kidnap Jason and me?" Remy refused to give up yet. Maybe he could talk his way out. This time, Hodge retaliated with a blow to his stomach. Remy spat up blood. Hodge didn't like being questioned. Well, too bad! As long as they talked, Jason could gain a bigger head start on Hodge and Remy was willing to pay the price. "What do y' want from us?"

 

"I want Warren to turn to me after he loses everything," Hodge revealed in an unguarded moment. "You're not worthy of his love. Candy wasn't either, but I am. I'll show him the way to salvation. He'll join my cause. His money strengthened the Right before and he'll give it new life again."

 

"Ange will never support de Right!" Remy mumbled, biting back the pain. "He's a mutant himself."

 

"Such a pity, isn't it? I'll have to convince him to let me remove those wings. Maybe I can get used to his blue skin." Hodge threw back his head and laughed loudly. "Warren's mine... has always been mine, but he hasn't realized that yet."

 

Disgusted, Remy shook his head. "Y' don' love him. Y're a psychopat', obsessed wit' somet'in' y' can never have."

 

Hodge's laughter stopped abruptly and he glared at Remy. "No, it's *you* who doesn't understand. Look at you, thief. You're nothing but a cheap whore who got lucky." Hodge relished seeing the pain in Remy's eyes. "I know *he* enjoyed making you beg."

 

Remy's heart missed a beat. "What are y' talkin' 'bout?" Remy tried to pull away as Hodge's gloved hand reached behind his back to curl cruel fingers around a cuffed wrist.

 

"A friend of mine told me about the Antiquary."

 

Remy bit his lower lip when Hodge's hand sneaked over the back of his hand, snapping his thumb in two. "Antiquary's dead."

 

"No, technically speaking, he's not," Hodge pointed out to Remy and moved on to another finger, which he slowly crushed. "You see, I made a pact with a demon, N'Astrih. I'm immortal now. I can't die." A diabolical grin flashed across his face.

 

Remy's head dropped forward as Hodge unexpectedly let go of his hair. "Warren will witness your death and then... he'll turn to me for comfort once he sees that I'm looking out for his best interest."

 

Remy realized that he was dealing with a mad man and closed his eyes. His neck, face, fingers and chest hurt and discussing things with Hodge wouldn't get him anywhere. He'd better conserve his strength for when he'd need it.

 

"Jason will lead him here," Hodge added malignantly. "I needed him to run and you helped me by telling him to get moving, mutant."

 

Remy's heart thundered in his chest. "Don' hurt de petit."

 

"Warren doesn't like Jason very much. I saw them fight at Sam's funeral." Hodge waited for Remy to draw the correct conclusion.

 

"Y' killed Warren's brot'er," Remy realized, shocked. "What kind of monster are y'?"

 

"I'm not a monster!" Hodge exclaimed and threw a right hook at Remy, who doubled over when the fist buried itself in his diaphragm. 

 

Remy struggled for breath, but failed. Slowly he lost consciousness. Only the restraints kept him upright.

 

Pleased with his handiwork, Hodge nodded his head. "I'm going to enjoy slitting your throat in front of Warren."

 

///

 

Tampa

 

"Wolvie! Stop running!" Warren cursed softly and freed his wings. The canine had been leading him through alleyways for some minutes now and was picking up speed. Spreading his wings, Warren relished the shift of air beneath them as he took to the sky.

 

It surprised him that they hadn't run into anyone yet. He'd always assumed that the city's slums would be packed with people who lived on the streets. "Wolvie!" The canine turned left and Warren followed quickly.

 

Warren didn't know what to make of the canine's odd behavior. Ever since they'd left the ranch, the wolf had taken the lead. It almost seemed like Wolvie knew where to find Remy. But how could that be? Remy had never told him that his lover shared a special link with the canine, so how did Wolvie know Remy's whereabouts?

 

The wolf didn't stop running and simply growled, telling Warren to hurry up. Time was running out and Remy needed them.

 

"Wolvie!" Warren yelped as he almost crashed into a billboard. He'd been so intent on keeping track of the canine that he forgot to pay attention to where he was flying.

 

///

 

Jayce pressed himself closer against the wall. He vividly remembered catching a glimpse of the boogieman and he didn't want to be found by the monster. //Warren, I need to find Warren. But how do I do that? If I had some change I could give him a call and tell him to come here. But the kids took my wallet. Should I try to get the money I need by... asking people for their change? By begging?// Maybe a nice lady would give him the money after he explained why he needed it.

 

But what if he ran into those bullies again? Or a man that was just waiting for a boy to come up to him for help and then take advantage of him? Jayce realized that he'd been lucky those street kids hadn't hurt him worse than they did. They could have sexually assaulted him.

 

That thought reminded him of how badly he'd misjudged Remy. "Shit," Jayce whispered nervously. What did the monster want from Remy? Why had they been sedated and kidnapped?

 

"I need to talk to Warren." But it would take Warren hours to get here, even if he used his wings. "I should report this to the police as well." But would they believe him? They'd probably think that he was making this up, they'd make some calls and find out that he'd run away. But he had to take that chance. Remy's life was in danger! He found the courage to leave the safety of the shadows and cautiously took a few steps.

 

Jayce screamed as something jumped up against him, throwing him hard onto the pavement. "Leave me alone!" he screamed in panic.

 

"Jason?"

 

Hearing his name calmed him slightly. "Who..." He'd closed his eyes when the attacker had thrown him down and he now peeked through half closed eyelids. He didn't recognize the animal at first as frightened as he was, but then... "Wolvie?"

 

The canine growled softly and licked the boy's face. He'd smelled Jason's scent and now, he also detected Remy's scent on Jason.

 

"Jayce!" Warren called out the name and landed next to the fallen form. "Thank God we found you!" Warren pushed Wolvie aside and helped his nephew to his feet. "Jason, what happened?" His sharp eyes picked up on the fading bruising on the boy's face.

 

"Later!" Jayce stated determinedly. "You've got to help Remy first."

 

"He found you? Where's Remy now?" Warren made sure Jason wasn't hiding any injuries and then looked into the boy's eyes. "Tell me."

 

"A monster hit us with darts and we passed out. He's still got Remy." Jayce held tightly onto Wolvie, who stood pressed against his legs.

 

"A monster?" Warren realized that he was wasting precious time. "What way? Tell me once we're moving."

 

Jayce took Warren's arm and pulled him along. "It looked like some sort of robot and it had wings... metal wings."

 

Warren sucked in his breath. Whom was Jayce talking about? "Did you hear his name?"

 

"No, Remy told me to run and I did. I'm a coward," Jayce said discouraged. "He was restrained and couldn't run. I should have stayed to help him."

 

"There was nothing you could do," Warren assured him. "You did the right thing. Now take me to Remy."

 

///

 

"Where do ya want to go, Cajun?" Logan was quickly learning to trust Jean-Luc's hunches. Recent events had convinced him that Jean-Luc was hiding something from him and although he was inclined to push his lover into revealing the truth, he didn't. He hoped that Jean-Luc would tell him out of his own accord.

 

"I don't really know, cher." Jean-Luc looked about. The corridor had led them to a deserted alleyway. "Mais we should stay close. We're supposed to be here."

 

Logan gave his lover a puzzled glance. "How do ya know that?"

 

"I just do," Jean-Luc whispered and gestured Logan to follow him into another dark alley. His wrist continued to throb painfully, but he locked the feeling out.

 

However, Logan failed to ignore the fact that his lover was in pain. The scent of Jean-Luc's blood that dripped from the abused wrist was all around him, filling his nostrils. "Ya should lemme have a look at yer wrist, Cajun."

 

"I can deal with it," Jean-Luc chided Logan. "It's not life threatening. Stop worrying about it."

 

"Someone's comin'," Logan announced and pulled Jean-Luc out of the light of the street lamp.

 

"Anything else?" Jean-Luc whispered, cautiously.

 

"Smells... familiar," Logan mumbled at a thoughtful tone. "There are three of them, two humans and an animal."

 

"Can you be more specific?" Jean-Luc leaned against the wall for support. His arm was pulsing vehemently. He feared the open wound might have become infected when it came into contact with the handcuffs.

 

"Let's find out," Logan whispered. "Wait here. Ya can't fight like this." Logan didn't wait for Jean-Luc's answer and disappeared into the alleyway. Now that his lover was injured, it was Logan's duty to keep Jean-Luc safe and to find out who'd abducted them.

 

Logan halted and focused on the footfalls. "What?" The rhythmic footfalls suddenly disappeared and instead he picked up on... the beating of wings? "Worthington?" A low growl made Logan look down and he grinned, recognizing the canine that Remy and Warren had taken in. Calling out a tad louder he said, "Wings!"

 

Warren heard the voice and immediately recognized it. "Logan?" He descended and landed near the Canadian. "What are you doing in Tampa?"

 

"It's a long story, Wings, but we're looking for Remy."

 

"We?" Warren, who had held Jayce in his arms when they'd been airborne, placed the boy back onto his feet.

 

"Jean-Luc's here too, but the Cajun's injured. Someone staged a plane crash to get to us." Logan noticed the boy's scared expression. "And who's this?"

 

"My nephew, Jayce." Warren shifted his glance from Logan to Jayce. "This is a friend, Jayce and his name's Logan. You can trust him."

 

Logan raised an eyebrow at the suspicious look that the boy gave him. "Ya don't trust easy, do ya, bub?"

 

"Not any more," Jayce said, warily and then he addressed Warren again. "We need to hurry."

 

"What happened to mon fils?" Jean-Luc, who had grown impatient, emerged from the shadows. He quickly glanced at Jayce, noticed the bruising and then looked at Warren. "And who did dis to de petit?"

 

"Petit?" Jayce repeated, mesmerized. "That's what Remy calls me."

 

"I'm his père," Jean-Luc explained and moved a little closer to the boy. "What happened?" No, Warren couldn't be responsible for this bruising. Determinedly, Jean-Luc pushed that thought away. Warren would never raise his hand against someone he loved.

 

"Some street kids," Jayce explained quickly. "But can we get moving now? Who knows what that monster's doing to Remy."

 

"Remy's bein' held prisoner?" Logan concluded, as they followed the boy through the alleyways.

 

"By a robot," Jayce replied, eagerly. "Only his face appeared somewhat human."

 

Suddenly, shivers ran down Warren's spine. Now that he thought about it, he only knew one person who used implanted technology. "Fuck, it can't be Hodge."

 

Logan hissed, hearing that name. "Hodge? The punk that had your wings amputated?"

 

Jayce's eyes grew big and he briefly stopped walking. "Amputated?"

 

Warren stared blankly at the wall. "It's happening all over again."

 

"What is?" Jean-Luc looked pleadingly at Warren and then turned to Logan. "What is, cher?"

 

"Wings should tell ya 'fore we go inside," Logan said and studied Warren, who was shivering nervously.

 

"Hodge kidnapped and tortured Candy. We were an item at the time. When I tried to rescue her... I walked into a trap and she died." Warren spoke quickly, before he lost his courage to tell them. "Oh my God. Hodge plans on killing Remy too... is probably torturing him... right now." Devastated, Warren fought back his tears. "I can't lose Remy... I can't go in there. Hodge's waiting for me to show up."

 

Logan placed a hand on Warren's shoulder. "Ya won't be alone this time. Ya've got back-up." 

 

"But Hodge knows I'm coming! He's waiting for me to show up so he can kill Remy in front of me." Warren suddenly realized that Jayce had heard every word. Damn, the boy was way too young to hear all this shit. "Don't let it be Hodge."

 

Logan squeezed Warren's shoulder. "Sounds like it's Hodge alright. We need a plan," and he looked to Jean-Luc to think of one.

 

Jean-Luc nodded his head once. "I'll think of something." Addressing Jayce he asked, "How much longer?"

 

"In there," Jayce said and pointed at a metal door. "That's the exit."

 

"And our way in." Jean-Luc looked thoughtfully at Warren and Logan. He was inclined to tell Warren to stay back and look after Jayce, but his son's lover would never agree to that. Warren loved Remy too much to stay behind and do nothing to stop Hodge's reign of terror. "I've got a plan."

 

///

 

Logan smelled a surplus of metal in the air that wasn't supposed to be there. Hodge had probably registered his presence and Logan grinned. He wanted Hodge to follow him closely. Sneaking deeper into the abandoned building, his nostrils caught the stench of blood and burned flesh. Jayce had told them that Remy had worn a collar and Logan figured that Hodge had given into temptation to send some electricity through Remy's body. "Yer gonna pay for what ya did," he announced determinedly, as he remembered how emotional the father of the 14 year old girl had been when he'd buried his daughter.

 

At the same time, Jean-Luc forced a neglected window open and then crawled inside through the old ventilation shafts. They had to time this right or their rescue attempt would fail. Remy's life was at stake and that left them no room for mistakes.

 

Logan heard the sounds above his head and realized that Jean-Luc was also making his way inside. Now, he had to find and distract Hodge, who probably didn't expect three men to show up instead of one. The element of surprise was on their side.

 

"Well, well... Wolverine."

 

The hair at the back of Logan's neck grew rigid hearing that voice. "Hodge? Show yerself and fight like a man!" Warren had told them that Hodge was a psychopath and Logan hoped to make Hodge as mad as hell because then the mutant hater might become careless.

 

"Are you calling me a coward?" Hodge stepped forward and waited for Logan to descend the stairs that led into the basement where he was holding Remy prisoner. "I'll have to kill you for that."

 

"Draw a number and get in line." Logan unsheathed his claws and stepped into the basement. He was ready to buy Jean-Luc and Warren all the time they needed, but then he saw Remy's crumbled form. The Cajun's face was covered in dried blood and he'd collapsed onto his knees. Only the restraints kept Remy upright. "Ya bastard!"

 

"Wolverine, what an unpleasant surprise. You should have been dead by now." Hodge powered up the laser that was implanted into his right hand. Raising it, he aimed at Logan. "You're ruining my plans!" He'd expected Warren to come to the rescue, not Wolverine! "I bet the Cajun's still alive too."

 

"Oui," Jean-Luc whispered, inaudible, picking up on Hodge's words, as he moved down the ventilation shaft.

 

Hodge gave Logan a dirty grin. "I'll just have to kill you first."

 

"Ya can try," Logan announced and attacked Hodge. Using his adamantium claws he cut through Hodge's armor as knives through hot butter.

 

"You can't hurt me! I'm immortal!" Hodge exclaimed and spread his wings. His feet lost touch with the floor and he gained height.

 

That was what Warren had been waiting for. He'd been watching Hodge and Logan through a broken window and had almost lost his courage seeing Hodge's armored body. The metal wings seemed to mock him and suddenly a deep anger was born inside his soul.

 

"Kick his ass, uncle Warren!" Jayce said enthusiastically. From where he sat he couldn't see Remy and if he had, Jayce's reaction would probably have been more subdued. "Go get the monster!"

 

Warren drew in a deep breath, pushed the last remnants of glass out of his way and jumped down. Quickly, he spread his wings and headed for Hodge.

 

Logan saw Warren approach and grinned. "It's payback time," he quipped wickedly and moved out of the way.

 

"HODGE!" Warren screamed and grew even more furious when Hodge turned around in mid air and grinned at him. "Bastard!"

 

Hodge realized that his plans had been ruined and that he had to save his hide. No, they couldn't kill him, but they could immobilize him. Aiming his laser, he tried to shoot Warren down. Shocked, he stared at his arm, as it dropped onto the floor.

 

"Courtesy of old Wolverine," Logan growled, pleased.

 

Frantically, Hodge tried to regain his momentum, but found himself slammed into the wall. Warren had a tight hold on him and Hodge tried to free himself.

 

Jean-Luc chose that moment to drop from the end of the ventilation shaft and he headed for Remy at once. "Oh, Remy!" he exclaimed, shocked, seeing the amount of damage that Hodge had done. Suddenly, he realized that someone had followed him and had left the shaft as well. Looking over his shoulder, he recognized the canine. Briefly, he'd been worried that it had been Jayce, but the boy knew better than to follow him!

 

"Lemme!" Logan wanted a piece of Hodge too and his sharp claws pinned the psycho to the wall. "Whadda ya say now, Hodge? No longer runnin' off that big mouth of yers?"

 

"You can't kill me!" Hodge spat at them. "I'll come back for you."

 

Warren stared at his nemesis. Logan stood firmly on his feet, keeping Hodge in place. "You killed Candy, you bastard!"

 

"She didn't love you," Hodge sneered.

 

"You're insane," Warren mumbled, disgusted. "And you wanted to kill Remy too!"

 

"Warren!" Jean-Luc's voice cut through the basement. "Remy needs you!"

 

Warren shot one more venomous look at Hodge and said, "Logan, don't let him get away."

 

"Ya can count on me, Wings." Logan twisted his claws a little deeper into Hodge's armored body, making sure the mutant hater couldn't escape. The canine suddenly appeared at his side and Logan nodded approvingly. "Ya smell evil, don't ya?"

 

Wolvie growled dangerously. Logan was right; Hodge was evil, he could smell it on the man. Using his mental powers, the wolf called out to his master.

 

///

 

"Remy!" Warren touched down and stared at his lover's bruised and bloody face. "What did the bastard do to you?"

 

Jean-Luc was already working on removing the collar. "I need you to hold him." Once he removed the restraints, Remy would drop to the floor.

 

Tenderly, Warren wrapped his arms around his lover's battered frame. "I've got you, Rem and I'll never let you out of my sight again!"

 

Jean-Luc smiled at hearing that passionate vow. He unlocked the Genoshan collar and threw it away from him in disgust. "I'm going to remove de handcuffs now."

 

Warren held Remy as tight as he dared. There was blood on Remy's lips and he didn't know if his lover had coughed it up. If he had, it might indicate internal bleeding. "I love you, Rem. Please fight. Don't give up." As the handcuffs opened, Warren supported his lover, who almost dragged him down with his dead weight. "Can I lay him down?"

 

"Non, I need to untie his ankles first." Jean-Luc glared at Hodge, who was cursing loudly.

 

"You can't kill me, Wolverine, you should know that by now," Hodge quipped smugly.

 

Logan was about to crack an answer when a terrible stench erupted all around him. He knew that stench; it was sulphur. Looking over his shoulder, he saw how a now familiar form took shape. "Not 'gain," he whispered, confused.

 

"Sorry to disappoint you, Logan," Daimon Hellstorm said in an amused tone. "But Hodge is my responsibility so I get to end his miserable existence."

 

The canine moved aside to let Daimon pass and Logan noticed the expression in the wolf's eyes, which was way too intelligent for an animal. "Get in line, bub."

 

"You can't kill him," Daimon reminded Logan. "Cameron Hodge made a pact with a demon..."

 

"You're right, I did!" Hodge exclaimed triumphantly.

 

"You have no idea who I am." Daimon laughed.

 

The sound of laughter attracted Jean-Luc and Warren's attention and they quickly looked at Hodge to find out what was going on. "Mon Dieu!" Jean-Luc whispered, recognizing their old ally.

 

Warren was unprepared when Remy collapsed in his arms as Jean-Luc undid the ankle restraints. Gently, he lay Remy down on the floor, resting his lover's head in his lap. Cradling Remy's head in his hands, Warren managed to keep an eye on his lover and Daimon at the same time.

 

"Who the hell are you?" Hodge asked Daimon. "You're not supposed to be here!"

 

"Where evil is, I am," Daimon answered quizzically. "And as the ruler of Hell, I declare your contract with N'Astrih null and void." Daimon opened his hand and Hellfire shot from his palm. "I've got some special torment in mind for your black soul. You'll fit in perfectly in Hell."

 

"NO!" Hodge screamed viciously as the Hellfire snaked up his body.

 

"Logan, you might want to move out of the way," Daimon said teasingly. He loved ruining N'Astrih's plans. He'd take care of his minion later. Content, he watched as the Hellfire completely engulfed Hodge's body.

 

Logan quickly retracted his claws. The canine bit into his coat and pulled him away. "Hey, whadda ya think yer doin'?" But the wolf simply grinned at him.

 

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," Daimon stated, obviously pleased. "I always wanted to say that," he added, seeing Logan's puzzled expression. "Say good-bye now."

 

Hodge uttered one last scream as the Hellfire burned away the armor and nestled inside his bones. Within seconds, his ashes floated onto the floor.

 

Daimon turned around, smirked at Logan and then grew serious again when he walked towards Remy. "Our little angel should stay away from demons."

 

Warren didn't know how to react. He was too relieved to have Remy back in his arms. "Hodge hurt him." With utmost care, Warren stroked back the bloodied hair and cringed, seeing the black eye and other bruising along Remy's jaw line.

 

"He exhausted his healing power trying to help other people," Daimon stated knowingly. "You have to take him to the hospital. A rib threatens to puncture his left lung."

 

"How do you know?" Jean-Luc asked, puzzled.

 

"I possess healing powers myself, but they don't work on an angel. Our powers aren't compatible. He'd fight me instinctively. His injuries need time to heal." Daimon sat on his heels and stared at Remy's face. "I can take you to a hospital."

 

"How?" Warren tightly held onto his lover. "We shouldn't move him. Maybe we'd better call an ambulance?"

 

"We don't need an ambulance. Gather around me," Daimon instructed and waited for the canine, who had gone outside. "Did you leave anyone out there?"

 

"Jayce!" Warren couldn't believe that he'd forgotten about the boy!

 

But luckily, Wolvie was pulling Jayce along. He nudged the boy onto the staircase and descended it behind Jayce.

 

Jayce stared at the group of men and cringed seeing the state Remy was in. He ran down the stairs and joined Warren. Hesitant to speak up or touch Remy, he whispered, "Will he be all right?" He'd never seen someone this seriously beaten up before.

 

"Yes, he will," Warren said determinedly and locked eyes with Daimon. Take us to the hospital. Rem needs a doctor."

 

Daimon nodded his head, smiled and summoned his power. After opening the doors between dimensions, he transported them to the nearest hospital.

 

Part 14

 

Tampa

 

They gave the hospital staff quite a scare, appearing in front of them, wrapped in a cloud of sulphur and Hellfire. Thankfully, the nurses and doctors turned out to be true professionals when they saw the wounded among them.

 

Jean-Luc was taken into an exam room and Logan growled displeased when they announced that the Cajun needed surgery. The x-ray showed a compound fracture and they had to set the bone before it could be put in a cast. Logan stayed in the corridor, next to the door of the operating theatre.

 

Jayce was also closely examined, but quickly released, as the bruises on his face were fading and the physician couldn't find any other injuries. Warren released a relieved sigh when Jayce joined him again. Daimon and Wolvie stayed close too, while the medical staff was busy determining the severity of Remy's injuries.

 

"Rem looked bad," Warren whispered concerned, as he paced the waiting area. "I can't believe that Hodge hurt him like that. It's a good thing the bastard's dead or..."

 

Daimon rested a soothing hand on Warren's shoulder. "Remy will recover. You need to have faith in him." From out of the corner of his eye he caught Jayce's suspicious expression. It amused Daimon that the boy openly showed his distrust. Most humans just shied away from him.

 

"But Rem's face..." Warren raised his hands and hid his face in them. He didn't want to fall apart in front of them. Jayce needed a stabile environment and right now everything was a mess. //But Jayce's holding up fine,// Warren realized, a little surprised.

 

"I can't lose Rem," Warren mumbled, upset. He wanted to shake off Daimon's hand, but felt frozen. "I can't imagine life without him." When had Remy LeBeau become the center of his life? Would life still be worth living without the Cajun? Those were frightening questions and he was reluctant to think about the answers.

 

Daimon decided to distract Warren. The mutant was driving himself insane, asking himself what would happen should Remy not recover. Looking down at the wolf, he smiled. "You served me well."

 

That got Warren and Jayce's attention. "Yeah, what's up with that?" Warren's glance shifted from Wolvie to Daimon and back again. "He knew where to find Rem."

 

Daimon smiled smugly. He'd gotten their attention all right. "This 'wolf' is not really a wolf," Daimon said, trying to make them even more curious. It would take their minds of worrying about Remy's condition.

 

"Then what is he?" Warren kept a close eye on Jayce, who seemed stunned. He couldn't blame the boy. Jayce should never have been tangled up in this. The boy should be safe at the ranch, not getting caught up in the supernatural.

 

"Wolvie's... demonic," Daimon revealed with a smirk on his face.

 

"He's a demon?" Jayce interjected, curiously. "I thought he was... just a wolf."

 

"He's a dog of Hell." Daimon petted the wolf's head. "He accepted the assignment to look over Remy... for the rest of his life."

 

Warren swallowed hard. "Are you telling me that a demon slept in my bed?" He remembered all the times that Wolvie had curled up at the foot end.

 

"Yes, his real name is Garm." Daimon considered his next move. "I planned on letting Garm guard Remy, but now that you know the truth I suspect you won't want Garm close any longer."

 

Warren stared at the canine... dog of Hell. "I'm not sure," he said eventually. Remy had grown quite fond of Wolvie and Jayce had taken to the canine as well, but now... Warren looked at Jayce. "What do you think?"

 

Jayce's eyes grew big. Did Warren really want *his* advice? "I kinda like him, but..." Jayce turned to Daimon. "Is he dangerous?"

 

"Only to your enemies," Daimon assured them. "Garm has the gentlest disposition of all dogs of Hell, which is why I chose him. He doesn't really fit in with the rest of the pack. He's too... playful."

 

Warren remembered how Wolvie's tongue had dragged over his face hours ago and had to agree with Daimon. "So your name's Garm?" The dog of Hell bared his teeth. Warren had learned by now to interpret that as a grin. He didn't feel completely comfortable having a demon that close, but... "And he watches over Remy?"

 

"Yes," Daimon assured Warren again. "Garm really likes living with Remy and you. He especially likes your warm bed."

 

"That's got to end, you hear?" Warren said determinedly, addressing Garm. "No more sleeping in bed!" The dog of Hell cocked his head and looked absolutely miserable. Warren tried hard to repress his amusement, but a grin slipped through. "You're on probation," he decided. "And we still have to tell Remy, who..." Shit, he'd completely forgotten about his lover!

 

"You brought in my patient, didn't you?" The elderly doctor, who stepped into the waiting area, recognized the winged mutant.

 

"Yes, he's my life partner," Warren replied quickly. "How's Remy?"

 

"So..." the doctor wrote down the name on a piece of paper. "So that's his name?"

 

"He hasn't regained consciousness then?" Daimon concluded.

 

"He woke up briefly, but is asleep now. I don't want him to wake up again. I should introduce myself first, I'm doctor Richards."

 

Warren shook the doctor's hand, but wished the man would tell him more about Remy's condition. "How is he? Rem was in a bad way when we found him."

 

"Why don't we sit down?" Richards suggested and noticed that the small group followed him. "You're all family?"

 

"Yes," Daimon stated determinedly. The lie didn't bother him.

 

Puzzled, Richards raised an eyebrow, but didn't question the answer. After they sat down, he said, "I examined Remy. He's going to make a full recovery."

 

Warren leaned back in the chair and nodded his head. "Thank God." He heard Daimon's soft snort of disapproval and even Wolvie, no Garm, seemed to shake his head. //Well, they're right... we did have some help, but it was of a demonic and not of a divine nature,// Warren mused.

 

"Remy's got a broken rib, that almost punctured his lungs, but we bandaged it rather tightly and it should heal just fine." Richards watched Warren closely. He'd never seen a mutant from up close and his curiosity awoke, but he pushed it away. His patient came first. "His right eye needs rest and I'll give you a prescription for eye drops, which you need to apply every 12 hours."

 

"What else?" Warren asked, mentally making notes so he wouldn't forget to pick up the prescription before they left.

 

"His right hand. His thumb and index finger are broken... crushed is more like it. We had to splint them. He'll need rest and should stay off his feet. Remy took some nasty blows."

 

"I'll make sure Rem stays in bed." Warren licked his lips, as his mouth had gone dry. The damage seemed less than he'd feared. "Can I see him now?"

 

"Yes, but keep in mind that he's asleep. I'd like to keep it that way," Richards said as he got to his feet.

 

"Does he have to stay or can we take him home?" Daimon asked, wondering how well Remy would deal with being transported back to the ranch in a car or helicopter. If he could use his own means of transportation it would be less painful for Remy.

 

Richards gave them a thoughtful look. If he read them right, Remy would be perfectly cared for, maybe even better than should he stay at the hospital. "There's no reason for him to stay," he said eventually. "But he's confined to bed rest."

 

Warren nodded his head once. "I understand, doctor Richards."

 

"I'll take you to his room, but only two of you, no more!" Richards stated determinedly. "He's asleep anyway."

 

Warren exchanged a look with Daimon. "Can Jayce and I go in?" He realized that Daimon had taken out Hodge, had taken away that threat and Warren didn't want to boss Daimon around.

 

"Sure, I can wait." Daimon stretched his legs, making himself comfortable on the chair. "But keep in mind that I can't stay here too long...I'll transport you to the ranch and then I need to attend to my own affairs."

 

"Thanks for helping us out," Warren said, softly. "We couldn't have killed Hodge and he'd have found a way to get back at Rem when we least expected it."

 

"Go, go and see Remy and once he's awake I'll take you home.

 

///

 

Jayce stood silently beside Remy's bed and studied the Cajun's features. Bruises covered most of Remy's face and his right eye had been beat shut. Remy lay on his back and Jayce caught a glimpse of the bandages around the Cajun's chest. Remy's bandaged right hand rested on top of the blanket and Jayce wondered if those broken fingers hurt badly. Maybe it was a good thing that Remy was soundly asleep.

 

"He'll get better," Jayce said in a wavering tone, needing to hear Warren's assurance.

 

"Yes, Rem will recover just fine." Warren carefully sat down on the side of the bed and cradled Remy's left hand in his. "I thought I'd lost him," he confided in Jayce. "And what the hell did you think you were doing running away like that?" Warren stared hard at Jayce. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

 

//I nearly did,// Jayce thought remorsefully. "I'm sorry," he whispered, averting his eyes. Suddenly he found the linoleum floor very interesting.

 

"Why did you run?" Warren asked Jayce. At the same time he pushed back a stray lock of golden, auburn hair that had slipped into Remy's face.

 

"I couldn't face you... or Remy."

 

"Why?" Warren managed to look away from Remy and into Jayce's eyes. As long as he felt Remy's hand in his, he was reassured that his love was all right.

 

"I... misjudged Remy so badly," Jayce whispered and peeked at Warren's eyes. "He isn't abusive."

 

"No, he certainly isn't," Warren mumbled. "What changed your mind?"

 

"Realizing that he cared about me... *you*... the people who suffered burns. He took care of them, of you and he even wanted to look after me." Jayce wringed his hands behind his back. "I'd understand if you no longer want me on the ranch. I messed up."

 

"We all make mistakes," Warren chided his nephew gently. "I made plenty. But Remy taught me that everyone deserves a second chance. You obviously care about Remy and I'm sure that he wants you to stay with us, so forget about running away ever again." Warren distinctly noted Jayce's relieved sigh. "You're coming home with us."

 

"Bien..."

 

Startled, Warren looked at his lover, whose left eye had opened. "Rem, you need to get back to sleep." Warren rubbed the knuckles of Remy's left hand. "I figured you would agree with me. Jayce should stay, shouldn't he?"

 

Remy managed a weak smile. "Mais... oui," he whispered. "Tired... cher." Remy wondered why his right eye stubbornly remained shut. His chest hurt and he tried not to inhale too deeply. Warren's presence however, reassured him. He didn't wonder why Warren was close, just accepted it and relished his love's presence. Dozing off again, he used his last strength to curl his fingers tightly around Warren's hand, making sure that his lover couldn't leave.

 

"He's asleep again," Warren whispered with a smile on his face.

 

"Wings?"

 

Warren looked over his shoulder at hearing Logan's voice. "Yeah?"

 

Jean-Luc's broken wrist now rested in a sling and he leaned against Logan. They stood in the doorway, both wearing a smug expression on their face.

 

"How's your wrist?"

 

"Dey took care of it," Jean-Luc whispered, careful not to wake Remy up again. They'd talked to doctor Richards and knew that Remy would make a full recovery. Jean-Luc was confident that his son's healing power would speed up the recovery process. "Daimon told us dat he'll take you home."

 

"Are you coming along?" Warren would like that. "Remy might need you."

 

But Jean-Luc shook his head. "Remy's in capable hands," he complimented Warren. The truth was that he owed Logan an explanation for his past behavior. "Mais we'll visit shortly."

 

Jean-Luc's decision surprised Logan. He'd thought that they'd accompany Remy and Warren, but his lover probably had a perfect reason for deciding differently.

 

"Do you think he'll remember Logan and I were dere too?" Jean-Luc wondered out loud. Remy had appeared unconscious when he'd removed the restraints.

 

"I'll tell him you helped," Warren said softly. "I should get Daimon now. Remy will feel much more comfortable resting at home than in this hospital room." Warren reluctantly let go of Remy's hand and signaled Jayce to join him. Jean-Luc was entitled to a moment alone with Remy.

 

"Merci," Jean-Luc whispered as Warren and Jayce passed him by. He walked towards the bed and claimed Remy's hand, which felt warm and smooth. "Remy, you need to be more careful, petit."

 

Logan stood behind Jean-Luc and placed a possessive hand on his lover's hip. "Ya know that the kid attracts trouble. Ya can't keep him safe forever."

 

"I know dat, cher, believe me, I know. I wish it were different, mais I'll always want to protect Remy." Jean-Luc leaned back and relished Logan's closeness. "You were right. We need to talk."

 

"That's why we're stayin'?"

 

"Oui." Jean-Luc leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on Remy's brow. "Je t'aime, petit." Embedding the lines of Remy's face in his mind, he smiled saddened. "De bruises will fade." Then he released Remy's hand and stepped away from the bed. Both men left the room.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Garm, stay with Jayce," Daimon instructed and the dog of Hell gently took hold of Jayce's hand and pulled him in the opposite direction. Daimon followed Warren, who carried Remy in his arms, to their bedroom.

 

"You're home, love," Warren whispered affectionately as he placed Remy in their bed. Covering his lover with the comforter, he allowed himself to relax slightly. Remy was home.

 

"Cher?"

 

Remy's tired voice startled Warren. "Stop waking up, stupid Cajun," he chided Remy teasingly. "Close those eyes and get back to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up." Remy's smile was genuine and relaxed. Warren tucked his lover in. "If you're a good boy, I'll join you in bed later."

 

"Would... love... dat," Remy whispered, barely audible and drifted back to the world of dreams.

 

"Warren?" Daimon waited for the other man to turn around and face him. "My work here's done."

 

"Thank you," Warren repeated his earlier words. "Without you..."

 

Daimon cocked his head. Warren had no idea how much he'd mingled in Remy's life. He'd never regret getting involved and sending the certificate to Scott Summers. Remy deserved to know who he really was, in all aspects. //My father should never have informed the Antiquary of Remiel's birth.//

 

"You realize that I'll always keep an eye on Remy?" Garm would contact him should something extraordinary happen.

 

"I don't think that's a bad thing." Warren walked up to Daimon and offered the man his right hand. "You'll always be welcome here."

 

"I hope you'll never regret those words," Daimon pointed out to him. "I *am* the ruler of Hell."

 

Warren's smug grin grew wicked. "Defense mechanism, huh?"

 

Daimon laughed. No human had ever had the audacity to say that to him! "Maybe," he chuckled and turned around. "I'm leaving." He called on his Hellfire to take him home.

 

"Does he have to leave behind that sickening stench of sulphur?" Warren remarked. "When Kurt teleports it smells like that too." Briefly, he considered if both men might be related, but then shrugged it off. "No way."

 

Warren returned to the bed and lay down on his side, facing Remy. He didn't even bother to undress, so eager was he to watch Remy sleep. Warren desperately wanted to wrap his arms around his lover and pull him close, but they would have to be careful for the next couple of days, as his lover's injuries needed time to heal. As he fingered a golden lock, Warren smiled. "I love you, Rem."

 

///

 

The Blackbird

 

Scott noticed the nervous twitch near Corsair's mouth. He felt equally worried, but didn't show it. For the last 30 minutes they'd tried to get a hold of Warren and Remy on the ranch, but all the foreman could tell them was that the two men had left several hours ago.

 

"Where's Remy?" Corsair whispered the words, privately, not expecting an answer. Scott knew as little as he did. "You don't think something bad happened to him? This Jim mentioned a fire."

 

Scott didn't really know how to comfort his father. "I'm sure Remy's fine." Like a cat, Remy seemed to possess at least nine lives, some of them used twice.

 

"How much longer before we reach the ranch?" Corsair no longer fought his nervousness. //What if I lose Remy before getting to know him?// That thought frightened him.

 

"Ten more minutes," Scott replied. "Do you want to try again? Maybe they returned in the meantime."

 

"You try contacting them," Corsair said, worried. He didn't trust his own voice right now.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

"Mister Worthington?" Jim knocked softly on the door to his boss' bedroom. He'd seen the way Remy had looked when they'd returned home and didn't want to disturb the two men, but Warren was needed. He knocked again, a little louder this time and said, "Warren?" Jim was one of the few workers who would ever address his boss in that manner.

 

Reluctantly, Warren opened his eyes. Something had disturbed his sleep and his first concern was for Remy, but his lover was soundly asleep. Then, Warren heard Jim's voice. Cursing softly, he dragged himself out of bed, tucked Remy in again and tiptoed over to the door, which he softly opened. "What?" Warren asked as he closed the door behind him.

 

"A certain Scott Summers is trying to reach you over the radio," Jim informed his boss. "He says that he needs to talk to you, urgently."

 

Warren wished he could go back to bed and watch over Remy, but realized that he couldn't ignore this. "I'll talk to him." He followed Jim into the improvised control room, where they'd moved all equipment during the fire.

 

Jim handed Warren the headphone and Warren sat down. "Scott? Is that you?"

 

Inside the Blackbird, two men jumped on their seats. Scott reacted at once. "Warren, where have you been? We've been trying to reach you for some time now." Scott smiled reassuringly at his dad, who shifted uneasily in his seat. Corsair was obviously nervous to meet Remy.

 

"To cut a long story short, Hodge tried to kill Remy... and we just got back from the hospital," Warren explained.

 

Corsair almost jumped out of his seat. "What? Who's this Hodge and how's Remy doing?"

 

Scott felt concerned too, hearing this news, but couldn't help smiling warmly. Corsair was getting angry and worried about a son he'd never seen before. That was definitely a good development.

 

"Hum, Scott? Who's there with you?" Warren had trouble identifying that second voice.

 

"My father," Scott replied, somewhat amused.

 

"Corsair?" Warren suddenly felt apprehensive. "Scott, where are you?"

 

"I'm about to land the Blackbird in your front yard," Scott quipped.

 

"Oh fuck," Warren exclaimed in an unguarded moment. Remy's biological father was about to visit and his lover had no idea that Corsair was here!

 

"Oh *fuck*?" Scott repeated, dryly. "I didn't know you used that word, Warren." As he looked at Corsair, Scott realized that his father barely managed to remain seated. He addressed Warren again. "Are you trying to tell us that our timing sucks?"

 

"Sucks?" Warren repeated the word in tone similar to Scott's and cringed. "Yeah, actually it does. Remy's been kidnapped and tortured. He has a broken rib, broken fingers and his face is covered in bruises."

 

"Who is this Hodge?" Corsair asked Scott again. "I'll make him pay for hurting Remy like that!"

 

Warren caught Corsair's threat and addressed Scott. "Tell your dad that he can't do that. Hodge's dead."

 

"Good," Corsair growled and settled down. "Take her down, Scott." The way he felt now, he didn't trust himself to pilot the Blackbird.

 

"Warren, do you think Remy's up to meeting his father? We can wait a little longer, give Remy more time." Scott looked at Corsair, who nodded his head.

 

"I'll damn well make time!" Corsair stated determinedly.

 

"I'm not sure," Warren said thoughtfully. "Rem still hasn't woken fully. Why don't you land the Blackbird and I'll arrange some guest quarters for you. Maybe later today, you can talk to Rem? It depends on how bad Remy's feeling. I can't make any promises," Warren warned them. "I need to be sure that Remy's strong enough to meet his father." Feeling fiercely protective of his lover, Warren was determined to put Remy's needs first. Corsair's came second.

 

"Agreed," Corsair mumbled and nodded his head once. "We can wait."

 

"I'm about to land the plane, Warren. I'll meet you in about 10 minutes." Scott terminated the connection and chose a clearance close to the house to land the Blackbird.

 

///

 

"Be quiet now. Don't make any noise!" Warren instructed them in a firm tone. "I don't want Remy to startle awake. He's been through enough lately!"

 

Scott stared at Warren. Had he ever seen Warren this protective of someone before? Not this extremely. Yes, Warren used to fuss over Remy since they'd become lovers, but this intensity was new. "We'll be quiet," he promised.

 

"I just want to see my son." Corsair felt embarrassed and frustrated at the same time. He understood Warren's need to make sure Remy was fine, but he'd never do anything to hurt his son! He wouldn't wake Remy if his son needed to rest that badly!

 

Satisfied, Warren slowly opened the door and signaled them to step inside. His first glance was for Remy, who still lay in the center of the bed, hidden beneath the comforter. Warren took the lead and approached the bed, making sure Remy remained asleep.

 

Scott and Corsair followed, almost tiptoeing over to the bed. Corsair's heart beat wildly. In a moment he'd see his son for the first time in his life. Scott had told him about the changed eyes, which were gold on black now, and he mentally prepared himself for that remarkable sight.

 

//My son. Remy survived... I'm about to see my son, maybe even touch him, convince myself that he's alive... oh Katherine, if only you could be here now. Sinister didn't win. The baby survived!// Euphorically, Corsair took another step and finally laid eyes on his son. "Oh, Remy," he whispered, taken aback, seeing the extensive bruising on his son's face.

 

"Shst!" Warren placed his finger against his lips, indicating that Corsair should remain quiet. Father and son could talk later, once Remy had rested sufficiently.

 

//They have no idea how hard this is on me!// Corsair thought, frustrated. //I waited 25 years for this!// But he got his feelings back under control. He cringed, seeing the bruising and the black eye. An urge to make Hodge pay overwhelmed him, but then he remembered that the madman was dead.

 

Cautiously, Corsair lowered himself until he sat on his heels. His face was only a few inches away from Remy's and Corsair imprinted Remy's face in his mind. "My son," he whispered, affectionally.

 

Warren and Scott held their breath when Corsair whispered the words. Some movement showed beneath the comforter and Warren grabbed Scott's arm when Remy's left eye unexpectedly opened.

 

///

 

Disorientated, Remy wondered why his right eye refused to open. Too tired to find out, he felt content just to use the one remaining eye. Blinking once, he realized that someone was staring at him. It was a man with auburn hair, sparkling eyes and a curious expression on his face. "Who...'re y'?" he stuttered sleepily.

 

Remy picked up on the warmth and affection that the man directed at him and he tried to identify that face. "'ave we... 'ver met?" His words were slurred and he attempted to sit upright. "Ow," he exclaimed as pain shot through his chest and right hand. Obviously, sitting upright was a bad idea. "An... ge?" Remy called out to his lover, needing to know that Warren was close.

 

"I'm here, love." Warren quickly stepped forward and sat down on the bed. Taking Remy's left hand in his, he tried to radiate calm. His heart ached, seeing the way Remy tried to look up at him. "Don't... You're hurt. Your right eye won't open."

 

Corsair had quickly stepped back and now joined Scott. A deep anger burned in the pit of his stomach. Hodge deserved to die all over again for hurting his son like this!

 

"Give Remy time," Scott whispered reassuringly. "Warren told me that Remy's under the influence of sleeping meds."

 

"Ange? I... 'ear... voices..." Remy murmured. Tilting his head was extremely painful, so he gave up on finding out who was in the room with them.

 

Warren swallowed hard and made a decision. He gently stroked Remy's hair and leaned in closer so Remy didn't have to try too hard to focus on his face. "You've got visitors, love. Scott's here." Warren raised his hand and gestured Scott to approach the bed.

 

Scott smiled at Remy. "Did you get yourself into trouble again, little brother?" he asked, teasingly.

 

"Cyke... Scott... 'orry," Remy whispered, feeling immensely confused. "'at 're y' doin' 'ere?" Remy only vaguely realized that he couldn't get his lips wrapped around the words. The sleeping meds were messing with his mind and affected his speech.

 

"I wanted to visit you, spend some time with my baby brother." Scott smiled, seeing the way Remy tried to grin at hearing those last two words.

 

Corsair watched them, feeling envious. Scott and Remy seemed to get along well and he felt left out, while he was their father! But he waited for Warren to introduce him. Remy looked fragile and Corsair didn't want to worsen his son's condition by startling him.

 

"'s nice t' see y' 'gain," Remy mumbled. The sleeping medication made him feel light-headed. "'orry, don' feel dat 'reat..."

 

"Warren told me about Hodge," Scott said in a soft tone. "We should let you go back to sleep."

 

Corsair cringed privately. He wanted Remy to know that his father was here!

 

"Wait." Remy had increasing difficulty to stay awake and focused. "Feel somet'in'."

 

"What do you feel, love?" Warren caressed his lover's brow, rubbing the tension away that probably emanated from Remy's temples. "Do you have a headache?"

 

"Oui."

 

Remy's answer confirmed Warren's suspicion. He'd been relieved to learn from doctor Richards that Remy hadn't suffered a concussion. "Are you feeling nauseous?"

 

"Non." Just in time Remy remembered not to shake his head. That would only worsen his headache. "Feel... pain," he whispered, trying hard to pronounce the words properly. "Emo... tional... pain." He tried to look passed Scott. "Dat... ot'er man..."

 

Warren knew he should tell Remy that Corsair was here. "Rem? Love?" The distant expression in his lover's eyes worried him. "Scott didn't come alone."

 

Remy waited for Warren to continue. His strength was leaving him quickly.

 

Warren caught Corsair's glance. "Come over here," he said gently.

 

Corsair obeyed and sat on his heels so his face was level with Remy's again. "Hello Remy," he said in an emotional tone. The tears that had earlier filled his eyes now slipped down his face.

 

"'allo." Remy wondered if he was supposed to know this man, who felt so strongly about him. Feelings of love, protection and affection covered him like a blanket and these emotions emanated from the stranger.

 

"You don't know me," Corsair realized, saddened. "My name's Christopher Summers," he explained as he gently took hold of Remy's left hand. "You probably know me as Corsair. I'm your father."

 

Part 15

 

Honeymoon Island

 

Remy simply stared at Corsair. His brain was still trying to accept that his dad was sitting in front of him. Dad, never poppa or père. Those titles were reserved for Jean-Luc LeBeau, the man who'd saved his life too many times to count.

 

Corsair's nervousness increased when Remy didn't verbally react to his admission, but maybe that was due to the sleeping medication. Remy seemed fully conscious, but wasn't. "I love you, son."

 

Hearing those words brought a smile to Scott's face. Corsair was far better at expressing his feelings than he'd ever be. Remy needed to hear it.

 

"Son," Remy repeated, taken aback. "Y're... my...dad." Still in disbelief, he tried to raise his left hand, but then realized that Corsair had already claimed it. His dad's emotions were real, his hand felt real... Remy had to accept that this was happening now. It wasn't a figment of his imagination. Now that he had a good look at Corsair, Remy concluded that the man did resemble Scott in a certain way.

 

"You're tired, son. We can talk later. I won't leave before we had a chance to get to know each other," Corsair promised as Remy's eye slipped shut. "Yes, that's it. Sleep." He waited for Remy to doze off and then whispered, "Katherine, you'd have been proud of him."

 

Warren felt torn. He wanted to stay with Remy, but needed to check on Jayce as well. He'd lost track of the boy after they returned home. "Can you stay with Rem a little longer? I'll be back in ten."

 

Corsair firmly nodded his head. "I'd love to spend time with my son. Even if he's asleep."

 

Warren exchanged a look with Scott, who nodded his head. They would stay with Remy until Warren returned. "Thanks," Warren said quickly and hurried out of the room to check on Jayce.

 

///

 

Jayce and Garm were having a stare contest. Jayce sat upright on the bed with his back against the wall while Garm had made himself comfortable at the foot end, hogging the blanket. "It's hard to believe that you're not really a wolf." He didn't know how to feel about Garm being a dog of Hell. The knock on his door was a welcome distraction. "Yes," he said, wondering who it could be. He almost jumped to his feet when his uncle entered. "How's Remy?"

 

"Asleep again," Warren replied and sat down on the side of the bed, giving Garm a curious look as well. "I though you might be hungry, Jayce." Warren placed the sandwiches, cookies and milk on the nightstand. "How are you doing? It's been a rough ride for you too."

 

"I'm sorry that I ran," Jayce admitted at once, feeling guilty as hell. "If I'd stayed here, Hodge would never have gotten hold of Remy. It's my fault Remy got beaten up."

 

Warren licked his lips. He had to handle this delicately. "Hodge would have found a way to get to Remy, even if you hadn't run off. But you did and yes, it made it easier for Hodge to grab Remy."

 

"I can't believe that you still want me here," Jayce whispered.

 

"You're family, Jayce." Warren ruffled the blond locks. "And I've got the feeling that Remy and you will become good friends. Give yourself a chance, Jayce."

 

Garm felt the tension and decided he had to do something about it. The bed dipped as he sneaked off it. Both humans were a little too preoccupied to pay much attention to him.

 

"I really like Remy," Jayce admitted, fighting hot tears. "Why did I make it so hard on the two of you?"

 

"You're a teenager, Jayce and teenagers are always trouble," Warren said jokingly. "I should know. I used to be one!" Relieved, Warren noticed the smile on Jayce's face.

 

"I think I want those cookies now," Jayce remarked, feeling a little more comfortable and definitely wanted here. "Oh man!" Jayce's eyes grew big as he saw Garm munching the cookies. "Don't tell me he ate my cookies!"

 

Garm acted perfectly innocent and returned to claim his spot on the bed. Closing his eyes, he licked his mouth to get all the crumbs and then pretended to be asleep.

 

"He's going to be trouble," Warren stated amused.

 

"He already is!" Jayce agreed and decided to eat the sandwiches instead.

 

///

 

Upon Warren's return, Scott and Corsair left. Warren promised Corsair that he could spend time with Remy tomorrow when the sleeping meds had worn off.

 

After getting undressed, Warren sat upright in their bed, resting his back against the headboard. Remy slept beside him, clutching the comforter to keep warm. "Ah, Rem... I almost lost you."

 

Remy reacted to the sound and reached out with his left hand. "Cher... close." His fingers dug into the fabric of Warren's boxers and he pulled the winged man close.

 

Warren thought about not giving in. By lying that close to Remy he could unintentionally put pressure on the broken rib, but his lover persisted and Warren relented. Remy folded an arm around Warren's waist and pulled his lover close to his chest.

 

Warren found himself locked in a tight hold. Remy was obviously not planning on letting him go. "Hey, I'm here, love. Don't worry about me." The sound of his voice seemed to relax Remy slightly so Warren continued. "Jean-Luc and Logan helped me to get you out. Jayce wants to stay, but feels bad about the way he treated you. Me? I'm just glad to have you back."

 

"'s 'kay, ange," Remy whispered in his sleep. "C'est bien."

 

Warren smiled against Remy's chest, returned the embrace and spent the remaining night staring at his love's face.

 

///

 

Tampa

 

Logan studied his lover, who sat cross-legged on the floor of their hotel room. He knew that Jean-Luc wanted to talk, but shaking off old habits was hard on the former patriarch. Logan sat down behind his lover and pulled him to his chest. "Wanna talk?"

 

Jean-Luc flashed him a grin. "We should talk, oui."

 

"How did ya know we were in danger? Why the aliases and the commercial flight? How did ya know that someone was after us? That Remy was in danger?"

 

"You know about de Elixir of Eternal life?" Jean-Luc drew in a deep breath.

 

"Yeah," Logan wanted to add, 'Ya stole Remy from the clinic 'cause of it,' but he held his tongue. Jean-Luc had paid for that mistake.

 

"De Elixir has some side-effects," Jean-Luc started hesitantly. If the Guild found out that he was betraying secrets he might find himself in big trouble, but the need to be honest with Logan outweighed his fears.

 

"What side-effects?" Logan whispered the words into Jean-Luc's ear and caught the man shivering beneath his hands.

 

"Clairvoyance," Jean-Luc sighed, resigned.

 

"Are ya tellin' me ya can see the future?" Startled, Logan caught Jean-Luc's glance as his lover looked at him over his shoulder.

 

"To some degree. I only see flashes." Jean-Luc shrugged his shoulders. "It's grown stronger."

 

Logan whistled, impressed. "Can't be easy on ya, knowin' what's 'bout to happen."

 

"I don't see everything, cher. Just bits and pieces." If he'd only had this ability when he'd been young! Then he'd never have stolen Remy from the hospital. "When it first showed, I couldn't handle it."

 

"Whadda ya do?" Logan forced Jean-Luc to lean back against his chest, deepening their physical contact.

 

"I met someone who taught me to control it. Stephen Strange."

 

"I met him a few times," Logan replied, surprised that Jean-Luc had kept all this from him. He wondered what more secrets the Cajun was hiding. Saddened, he realized that there would always be secrets between them. There were Guild things that Jean-Luc could never tell him. That his lover was opening up now was amazing.

 

"Stephen and I were lovers," Jean-Luc whispered and held his breath.

 

Logan gulped. "Lovers?" He never expected that admission.

 

"Only briefly," Jean-Luc explained. "That was before he met Clea."

 

Logan wondered if he should press Jean-Luc to tell him more, but realized that his lover had already taken a major step in strengthening their relationship. "I don't have to worry 'bout fightin' off a jealous ex-boyfriend then?"

 

"Non, don't worry about dat," Jean-Luc assured him, but remained tense against Logan. "Where do we stand now, mon ami?"

 

"Actually... We're sittin'," Logan quipped and playfully rocked the Cajun in his arms. "I don't know 'bout ya, but... wanna play in bed?"

 

Relieved, Jean-Luc released the tension that had controlled him only a moment before. "You're okay with dis?"

 

"Yeah," Logan mumbled as he licked the back of his lover's neck. "Will tell ya one of my secrets later... even the score so to speak."

 

Jean-Luc turned around in the embrace, took in Logan's honest eyes and knew that their love would always persevere.

 

///

 

Honeymoon Island

 

The next morning, Warren woke up, opened his eyes and stared into Remy's gold on black eye. The right eye was still closed, black and bruised. "Good morning, love. Feeling a little better today?" Remy looked awake and the smile on his lover's face reassured Warren slightly.

 

"A lil'," Remy admitted and allowed his left hand to tangle in Warren's golden locks. "What happened?"

 

"What do you remember?" Warren pressed an incredibly gentle kiss on his lover's lips.

 

"Hodge beatin' me up," Remy whispered in a choked tone. "I passed out."

 

"We rescued you," Warren started, "I had a lot of help. Jean-Luc and Logan showed up and..."

 

"Poppa?" Surprised, Remy looked about, as if he expected Jean-Luc to be close.

 

"They stayed in Tampa. I guess they wanted us to have some privacy."

 

"Hodge?" Remy tried to shift his body, but the pain that cut through his chest made him freeze.

 

"You sustained a broken rib, love." Warren stroked Remy's soft hair. "Hodge's dead. Daimon took him out."

 

"Daimon?" Remy tried to understand what had happened, how come that Jean-Luc, Logan and Daimon had shown up just at the right time? Sensing Warren's emotional pain, Remy whispered, "Y' musta been scared..." Hodge had killed Candy and Warren must have been frightened that everything would happen all over again.

 

"I was, but they helped me through it. Even Jayce told me to kick Hodge's butt."

 

"Jayce..." Upset, Remy tried to get into an upright position. "De petit ran..."

 

"Rem, Jayce's fine." Warren sat up and stopped Remy from moving further about. "The doctor confined you to bed, so stay there." Warren gently pressed Remy onto his back. "I'll get us some breakfast. Do you want to talk to Jayce later?" He also had to tell Remy about their dog of Hell.

 

"Oui..." Shyly, Remy peeked at Warren. "Had a strange dream last night."

 

"Tell me about it." Warren returned to caressing his lover's hair. "What did you dream about?" Remy'd had a calm night without nightmares.

 

"Dreamed dat Corsair was here," Remy whispered, almost too soft to hear.

 

"Corsair and Scott *are* here, love." Warren caught the shocked expression on Remy's face. "They arrived yesterday."

 

"Corsair's here?" Remy couldn't believe that his dream was turning out to be reality. "My dad's here?"

 

"I'm sure he'll visit you today. Corsair was quite emotional yesterday. He even cried."

 

Remy swallowed hard. "Cried?"

 

"He said that he'd waited 25 years to finally see his son."

 

"I'm 25?" Remy had never been sure about his age.

 

The simple question nearly brought tears to Warren's eyes. "I can't imagine how it must have been for you, not knowing who you are, when your birthday is, who your parents are... oh, love..."

 

"Could y'... could y' ask Corsair to come here now?" Remy said pleadingly.

 

"After you had breakfast, Remy, okay?"

 

"kay."

 

///

 

"Breakfast in bed, cher. Y're spoilin' me rotten," Remy whispered shyly. Warren had been fussing over him since they'd woken up and Remy had to admit that he loved all the attention. It finally convinced him that everything was all right again. Jayce was safely back at the ranch, Scott and Corsair would meet with him later and Hodge was dead.

 

Warren took great delight in preparing some toast with marmalade for Remy, who couldn't do much with his right hand. "Open up," Warren instructed and waited for his lover to take a bite. "By the way, there's something you need to know about Wolvie."

 

"What's dat, cher?" Remy used his left hand to wipe away some marmalade that had slid onto his chin. Lying in bed like this, with Warren close resembled Remy's idea of heaven.

 

"Wolvie's actually a dog of Hell, a demon."

 

Remy spat out the mouthful of orange juice he'd just drunk. "Sorry, cher," he apologized for making a mess. "What did y' say?"

 

"His real name's Garm," Warren said amused and used the corner of the sheet to clean up the orange juice. "And he's Daimon's minion. Daimon sent him to keep an eye on you, to protect you."

 

"Mon Dieu," Remy whispered, shocked. "He doesn' feel evil."

 

"According to Daimon, Garm isn't evil and didn't fit in with the pack. That's why Daimon sent him here. I told Daimon that Garm could stay," Warren said in a soft tone. "Or don't you want him around any longer?"

 

"Need a moment, cher. Is an awful lot to deal wit'." Remy couldn't believe that Wolvie wasn't a wolf. He'd never felt anything out of the ordinary. "He can stay," Remy decided eventually. "Cher, I'm stuffed."

 

Warren placed the breakfast tray on the floor and observed his lover for long moments. "You want to talk to Corsair, don't you?"

 

"I remember his face... I t'ink... not sure." Remy mourned the loss of body heat when Warren left their bed to get dressed.

 

"Stay in bed, Rem. I'll fetch Corsair for you, but you've got to promise not to move about too much while I'm gone."

 

"Promise, cher," Remy said and gave Warren one of his warmest smiles. Then, his smile froze. "Cher... I don' remember what Corsair said last night."

 

Warren sensed Remy's apprehension and did his best to reassure his lover. "I've never seen Corsair cry before, but he did last night when he saw you for the first time in his life."

 

"Wanna talk to him," Remy whispered, with a hint of uncertainty.

 

"Give me a moment, love. I'll be right back with him."

 

Remy fought his growing nervousness and shivered as the door closed behind Warren. He was about to talk to his biological father.

 

///

 

"I'm nervous," Corsair admitted embarrassed.

 

"That's only understandable." Warren smiled warmly. "Rem's nervous too."

 

"Are there things that I shouldn't bring up the first time I talk to him?" Corsair didn't want to make any blunders.

 

"You'd better not ask Remy about his childhood," Warren said thoughtfully.

 

"Remy said something that worried Scott. Might that have to do with his childhood?"

 

Warren decided to go for the direct approach. "Remy was abused when he was a child."

 

Corsair froze in his tracks. "What?" he stammered.

 

"After he was stolen from the clinic he lived with a man called the Antiquary, who abused Remy sexually... and emotionally." Warren swallowed hard. "Remy's still dealing with it, so I suggest you don't bring it up just yet." Looking at Corsair, Warren saw that the man's hands had turned into tight fists. "I know... it infuriates me too."

 

"Words fail me," Corsair stammered, shocked. His guilt deepened. If only he'd demanded Essex showed him the baby's corpse! None of this would have happened then!

 

"Are you okay?" Warren asked concerned. Warren waited for Corsair to regain his composure and then the two men started walking again. "Do you want me to wait outside?"

 

Corsair wavered. "I'm not sure."

 

"I'll remain close. Call me, should you need me." Warren opened the door to their bedroom and signaled Corsair to enter. "And don't forget that Rem's an empath. He can feel what you feel. Sometimes, that makes words redundant."

 

Corsair's eyes widened. An empath? Scott hadn't told him that Remy was an empath! As he stepped inside, his eyes automatically sought out his son. Remy sat propped up against the wooden head end of the bed. His left eye was open and Remy tightly clutched the comforter. Yes, Warren had been right; Remy looked nervous too. "Hello, son," Corsair started.

 

Remy licked his lips, taking in his father's features. "Corsair?"

 

"You can call me dad," Corsair offered. He pulled up a chair and straddled it. "I can't believe I'm looking at you, Remy. I wish your mother had lived to see this day."

 

"She's dead?" Remy felt Corsair's feelings clearly and they spoke of love and acceptance, but Remy still felt like he was talking to a stranger.

 

"Yes, Katherine died some years ago..." Corsair searched in his pocket for the picture that he always carried with him. "This is your mother." He handed the faded photo to his son.

 

Remy devoured the woman's image. "She was beautiful," he said sincerely and tried to memorize her features. It was strange to realize that this was Scott's mother too. "Did Scott know her?"

 

"Yes, Alex and Scott both did. I'm sorry you never met her." Remy wanted to return the photograph to his father, but Corsair refused. "Keep it. I don't need the photo to remind me of her. She'll always be in my heart."

 

Speechless, Remy caressed the old photograph with his fingers. "Merci." He didn't know how to react to this man. "Never thought we would ever meet."

 

"I thought you were dead, Remy. When Scott told me that you survived I nearly had a heart attack." Corsair slowly raised his right hand and rested it gently on Remy's shoulder. "I want to get to know you."

 

"I feel de same way," Remy admitted in a shy tone. "Can y' stay a lil' longer?"

 

"I'll stay as long as it takes to see you heal, son."

 

"We'll take dis slow?"

 

"Yes, we'll take it slow."

 

///

 

At noon, Remy finally managed to convince Warren that he could eat lunch sitting at the dinner table. It had taken all his cunning, and even a little empathic manipulation, to get Warren to listen to him. They'd reached a compromise, which didn't really please Remy, as Warren decided he'd carry his lover to the dining room and sit him down. //I can walk! Not'in' wrong wit' my legs!// But Remy gave in, realizing Warren would insist on this condition.

 

Warren gathered Remy in his arms and Corsair opened the door for them. It pleased Warren that father and son had spent most of the morning together. He could tell that this was hard on them, but they were opening up to each other.

 

"Jayce's looking forward to talking to you," Warren informed his lover. "The boy's worried about you. He's angry with himself for running away because it enabled Hodge to get to you."

 

"Not de petit's fault!" Remy stated firmly and held onto Warren as his lover carried him through the corridors. "I can walk, cher!" he exclaimed exasperated.

 

"No, doctor Richards confined you to bed. I shouldn't have given in earlier," Warren mumbled. "But you've got this way of winding me around your little finger."

 

Remy grinned and caught Corsair's smirk. He remained silent until they reached the dining room, where Scott, Jayce and Garm were waiting for them.

 

"Remy!" Jayce got up from his chair when he saw the Cajun. But when he saw the massive bruising on Remy's face, his relief lessened. "I'm sorry."

 

"It's 'kay, petit." Remy whispered into Warren's ear, "Put me down next to his chair. Petit needs to know dat I'm doin' better."

 

Warren followed Remy's instructions and once his lover was comfortable, he took the seat next to the Cajun.

 

Garm wagged his tail when he approached Remy. The dog of Hell hadn't been close to Remy since they'd destroyed Hodge and he was anxious to find out if the Cajun still accepted him or if something had changed.

 

Remy stared into Garm's eyes, wondering if he would now feel any evil in the demon's mind, but he didn't. It still felt good to have Garm close. "Y' held out on me," Remy said in a mock accusing tone. "Mais, c'est bien."

 

Garm cocked his head, revealed his wet tongue and dragged it over Remy's good hand.

 

"Oh, gross," Warren said, amused. "He did that to my face..."

 

Garm's action swept away the tension in the room and they laughed. Looking about, Remy realized how blessed he was to have his family close.

 

Hold fast that which is good.

Part 16 Epilogue

 

Remy embraced Nicholas and regretted having to say good-bye so soon. "Take good care of my petit frère, Bobby." The two men had to return to Westchester, but had promised to keep in close contact.

 

"Who are you calling little?" Nicholas said in mock hurt. "I'm nearly as tall as you are!" Nicholas enthusiastically returned the embrace. When Bobby and he had visited Remy and Warren, he'd been nervous to learn how Remy would react to finding out that Jean-Luc had another son. Remy had seemed hurt at first that he hadn't known about Nicholas, but eventually the older Cajun had understood Jean-Luc's reason for keeping Nicholas' identity a secret.

 

Warren watched the two Cajuns closely and felt a little sad himself to see Bobby and Nicholas go. They'd livened up the ranch quite a bit these last 2 months. Not to mention that Bobby had been caught smuggling cookies to Garm. Yes, the two men had fitted in perfectly. "Don't wait too long to visit again," Warren said and shook Nicholas' hand. "Feel free to drop by whenever you want."

 

Bobby smiled and curled a possessive arm around Nicholas' waist. Although he didn't really want to leave Honeymoon Island, he was looking forward to having Nicholas completely to himself again. During these last two months he'd had to share Nicholas with Remy. "Trust me, Remy, I'll take excellent care of your *little* brother!"

 

Nicholas sighed, pretending annoyance. "*You* of all people should know that I'm not little!"

 

Remy, Warren and Bobby laughed warmly at hearing that remark.

 

"When are you going to have *your* commitment ceremony?" Warren asked, teasingly. "I know this little palazzo in Venice. It's perfect to spend your honeymoon."

 

"Once he stops calling me little!" Nicholas stated jokingly and ruffled Bobby's hair. "We've got to leave now or we'll miss our plane." The jeep was already waiting for them and Nicholas gave Remy one last firm hug. Remy had already made a full recovery when they'd arrived, but Warren had told him about Hodge and the kidnapping. Nicholas had kept a close eye on Remy ever since.

 

"Why don't you visit us?" Bobby asked, as Nicholas and he walked over to the jeep. Jim would escort them to the boat and ensure they safely got to the mainland.

 

But Remy looked uncomfortable at hearing that invitation. "Rogue's back, non?"

 

"Yeah, but... I get it, Remy." Bobby nodded his head; he wouldn't push his friend into confronting Rogue again. She still seemed spooked by the fact that she'd been able to touch Remy without hurting the Cajun. "By the way, where's Jayce? He wanted to say good-bye."

 

Warren cleared his throat. "My fault. He's behind on his homework assignments and I told him to work harder. Guess he took it to heart."

 

Nicholas and Bobby got into the jeep, buckled up and waved as they said their good-byes.

 

Warren enfolded Remy in his arms and pulled his lover close to his chest. "I'm glad they got together." He'd been worried to hear that Nicholas and Bobby had almost ended their relationship after finding out the Cajun's true identity.

 

"Oui, cher, dey're good for each other." Remy rested his hands on Warren's arms and sighed blissfully. Now that Bobby and Nicholas were gone he wanted to discuss something important with Warren. "Let's find a quiet place?"

 

Warren followed Remy over to the porch where they sat down on the swing. They'd had it installed after he'd found Remy sitting on the wooden floor. The sun was about to set and most of the workers were barbequing, having a drink and relaxing. No one was close so Warren asked, "What do you want to talk about?" He'd learned to read Remy's facial expressions perfectly. It also helped that he could sense his lover's emotions. Looking into sparkling gold on black eyes, Warren felt truly blessed.

 

"It's been 6 months," Remy hinted and blushed slightly. He pushed deeper into Warren's arms and cherished his lover's closeness. "I t'ink I'm ready to try 'gain."

 

Briefly, Warren had no idea what Remy was referring to, then he remembered their deal to wait at least 6 months before trying to make love with him on top again. "Remy, are you sure about this? I love you. I don't need to be inside you."

 

Remy rested his head against Warren's shoulder, pulled up his feet from the wooden floor, and folded his arms around his knees. Warren was now all wrapped around him, just the way he liked it. "I've been doin' a lot of t'inkin," he started, "I ain' scared any more."

 

"Rem..." Warren pressed a kiss on his lover's locks. "I know that you're not afraid to be with me. It's the memories you're scared of."

 

"De nightmares have stopped," Remy pointed out to Warren. "And I don' feel uncomfortable any longer when y' put y'r fingers in me..." Remy said, directly. He wanted to address this matter head on. "I don' wanna do dis to please y', mais for me, for us."

 

Pleased, Warren rocked Remy slowly in his arms. "Are you sure you're not pushing yourself?" he asked, giving his lover a way out.

 

"Haven' y' noticed de difference when we make love?" Remy replied, glancing at Warren.

 

"Yeah, I have," Warren admitted. He no longer needed to announce his next move in bed and Remy now expressed his needs and desires as well. It made their love making even more intense. During the last 4 months they'd formed some sort of emphatic link that was especially strong when they made love. It allowed Warren to feel Remy's emotions and that had convinced him that his lover felt less threatened and intimidated. The only thing Warren still feared was that Remy might suffer from a rape flashback.

 

Resolved, Remy took hold of Warren's wrist and freed himself of his lover's embrace. He got to his feet and extended his hand. "Make love to me, cher." Remy's heart almost stopped beating when Warren shook his head. "Non? Y' don' wanna make lo...ve?" His voice faltered when he hit that last word. 

 

"Not like this," Warren soothed Remy. Damn, it hadn't been his intention to upset his lover. He jumped to his feet and reclaimed Remy's closeness, firmly re-establishing the hug they'd just shared. "I want the first time that I make love to you to be special," he reassured Remy. "Tomorrow evening, all right? Please, Rem." Warren looked into nervous gold on black eyes. "I sometimes fantasize about making love to you and... I want our first time to mirror that fantasy."

 

"Y're mushy," Remy muttered, as he calmed down. "Y' frightened me!" He playfully slapped his lover's butt. "Don' ever do dat 'again!"

 

"Understood," Warren whispered and captured his lover's lips for a long kiss.

 

"Uncle Warren! Remy! I finished my..." Jayce came to a sudden stop when he saw the two men kissing. "Oops," he whispered, shyly. Garm, who'd followed Jayce closely, bumped accidentally into the boy. "Bad doggie! Jayce said amused and peeked again at Warren and Remy who'd stopped kissing, but were still wrapped around each other.

 

"What did y' finish, petit?" Remy asked, interested. After their return from Tampa, Jayce had decided to stay at the ranch. A private tutor visited twice a week and Jayce was doing his homework, tests and assignments using the Internet. His tutor could thus check Jayce's progress.

 

"My essay on the first amendment," Jayce announced proudly and presented it to them. "Could you read it before I hand it to Mister Henley?" Jayce hoped his tutor would be pleased with the result.

 

"Sure." Warren took hold of the paper and scanned through it. "Looks well documented, Jayce. I'll read it this evening."

 

Remy smiled, seeing the way Jayce beamed with pride. Jayce seemed to feel at home here. "De principal from Saint Andrew's called. She wants to know whet'er y'll be back or not."

 

Jayce had learned one thing during this last half year and that was that Warren and Remy really wanted him here. "I want to stay here... at home." He knew it was the biggest compliment he could possibly give them.

 

Warren sensed Remy's pleasure as it flowed into his mind. "Jayce, do you want to take King out?" he said, trying to distract Remy and Jayce. "He needs some exercise." The white stallion and Garm had become best friends after the dog of Hell had tried to startle the horse. King had retaliated by threatening Garm to use his hind legs to kick the dog's ass. Garm had cleaned up his act after that.

 

"Cool!" Excited, Jayce started to take off, when he suddenly halted in his tracks, remembering how Warren and Remy had looked when they'd kissed. He'd seen them kiss before, had even caught them making out on the couch one night when he'd walked to the kitchen to get something to drink, but only now he realized that he didn't mind living with two men. The *gay thing* no longer bothered him.

 

"Somet'in' wrong, petit?"

 

"No, everything is just fine!" Jayce called out as he chased Garm to the stables.

 

Warren and Remy exchanged a glance. "He's a good kid," Warren said eventually, voicing Remy's thoughts as well. "I'm glad he stayed."

 

"And now y're stuck wit' some very interesting lecture," Remy said teasingly and pointed at Jayce's paper.

 

"Why don't we read it together? Snuggled up in bed?" Warren suggested and led his lover inside.

 

///

 

"I ain' nervous," Remy whispered in a stressed tone. "Dere's no reason to be nervous. We made love 'fore!" Remy paced the living room, waiting for Warren to join him. His lover had been gone all day, 'preparing for a special evening', as Warren had called it.

 

But he knew why he was this nervous. The last time that they'd tried to make love with Warren on top, Remy had sent his lover flying through the room. He'd panicked back then and his biggest fear was that he'd lose it again.

 

During these last 6 months Warren had never brought up the subject of making love that way. Remy had however, and Warren had assured his lover again and again that he was perfectly happy with their love life. The empath had sensed Warren's honesty, but still felt... lacking.

 

He'd told Warren that he wasn't doing this for his lover, but for himself. That was true. He no longer felt that he had to do this to prove to Warren that he really loved the other man, but... he missed this intimate aspect. He wanted to be able to feel Warren inside him, enjoy that sensation, just like his lover enjoyed being taken. The Antiquary had done his best to take away his ability to feel pleasure, lust and love and he was still trying to get it all back. It was a slow struggle, but he felt like he was winning.

 

Wringing his hands, he wished he knew what Warren had planned for this evening. His lover had only hinted that they'd be heading outside. "I ain' nervous," he repeated again.

 

Trying to find something that would soothe his nerves he walked over to the chimney. A few days ago, they'd placed a collection of personal photographs there. Lovingly, his eyes found Katherine's face. Next to it, they'd placed a picture of Scott and Corsair. Remy had talked them in to having their picture taken when they'd visited the ranch months ago. Then, his eyes drifted off to a photograph of Nicholas and Bobby, also taken here at the ranch. In the background he made out Garm. "I never realized we put up so many pictures," he whispered absentmindedly, as he stared at the photograph he'd taken with him from New Orleans, which showed Jean-Luc giving a young Remy a tight hug.

 

Last night they'd added a picture of Jayce, who'd posed proudly, with Garm resting at his feet. The dog of Hell had really taken to the boy. However, it was the last photo that made his heart miss a beat. Warren had folded his arms around him and they'd both laughed warmly when Jim had taken the picture. Yes, he was truly blessed.

 

"Hey, love," Warren stepped inside and immediately sensed Remy's tension. He'd expected it and didn't let it influence his plans for the night. He'd just take things slowly and see what would happen tonight. "These are for you."

 

Remy stared at the red roses that Warren pressed into his hands. Quickly, he curled his fingers around the stems, which didn't have any thorns. "Merci, ange, dey're beautiful."

 

"Are you ready to go?" Warren leaned in closer and gently brushed Remy's lips. The tremors that rocked his lover's body had grown less but where still there.

 

"Oui, where are we goin', cher?" Remy placed the roses on the coffee table, knowing that the maid would put them in a vase later. It would be a terribly sin to let them whither away. Warren took hold of his right hand and Remy followed him obediently outside. "Cher?"

 

"Get behind me, Rem. We're going flying." Warren waited for Remy to take his familiar position between the wings and then secured his lover's arms around his chest. His spread his wings and took to the sky, not too high, making sure that the sunbeams still warmed their bodies. "It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?"

 

"Oui, ange." Remy almost felt like he could touch the rare cloud that marred the perfectly blue sky. It would take the sun at least another hour to set and this was his favorite time of day. He loved watching the sun set... and rise again. "Where are we goin', cher?" His nervousness was almost gone now that he lay relaxed on Warren's back. It was also the first time that he noticed how perfectly his groin rested against his lover's buttocks.

 

"Eh, Rem? Growing aroused already?" Warren felt how Remy's erection began to poke his backside. Seductively, he wiggled beneath his lover, rubbing his butt against Remy's cock.

 

"Y're wicked, cher!" Remy chuckled, relieved that he was still able to joke with Warren, knowing what was going to happen tonight. Suddenly, he saw Jim, who was trying to hide behind a palm tree. "Cher? What's Jim doin' here?"

 

"He helped me prepare for tonight."

 

"Oh," Remy whispered in a small voice. "What preparations?"

 

"You'll find out in a sec." Warren changed their course and flew over some trees that had been blocking their view. "Over there."

 

Remy swallowed hard. "Mais, cher..." He held on tight as Warren landed on the warm sand. "Y' didn' have to do dis..." On the beach stood their dining table, filled with exquisite food, wine and burning candles. Speechless, Remy's eyes drifted to the blankets that had been placed on the sand. "Y' wanna make love here?"

 

"Yes," Warren confirmed, turning around and taking Remy's hand in his. He led his lover to the table and sat him down.

 

Feeling curious, Remy stared at the envelope on his plate. "What's dis, cher?" His eyes floated over the abundant food and only now he noticed that his glass was already filled with champagne.

 

Warren dipped a strawberry in Remy's champagne glass and whispered, "Open up, love." Slowly, he let the strawberry slide into his lover's mouth. Remy licked his lips and Warren groaned as his cock jumped to attention.

 

Warren's arousal slipped into Remy's mind and the Cajun felt deeply sympathetic. He'd been hard since their flight. "Want me to open it?" he asked Warren and fumbled with the envelope. He knew that his lover had placed it there for a reason. 

 

"Yes, open it." Warren sipped from his champagne. Originally, he'd wanted to share this with his lover 6 months ago, but after the kidnapping he'd concentrated on Remy, making sure his lover made a full recovery and later on, Nicholas had stolen Remy away from him. Now that things had slowed down he figured it was time to tell Remy about the name change.

 

Remy opened the envelope and stared hard at the official looking documents inside. Two pieces of papers demanded his attention and he scanned the first one. "Power of attorney? Cher, why?"

 

"I trust you to take care of me should something bad happen." Warren watched Remy closely. "Maybe I should have discussed this with you before taking legal action, but... it felt right."

 

Remy looked at the second paper and his breath caught. "Cher? De last name...?"

 

"Remember when we got each other the Claddagh rings back in Ireland?" Remy nodded his head and Warren continued. "We joked about taking on each other's last name... Remy Worthington-LeBeau-Summers..."

 

"Or Warren Worthington-Summers-LeBeau," Remy replied, fighting the return of his nervousness.

 

"I chose Warren LeBeau. Plain and simple. On some official contracts it will be LeBeau-Worthington because my business partners like to know it's still me they're doing business with, but yeah, I took on your name."

 

Remy ran his fingertips over the paper. "Can' believe y' did dis... dat y' would take poppa's name... my name... give up y'r own." Remy wiped away the solitary tear that flowed down his cheek.

 

Briefly, Warren was terrified that he'd made a terrible mistake by not asking Remy's permission first, but then the empath sent him his feelings and Warren sighed relieved. Remy was happy, intensely happy. "Wanna swim naked?"

 

Remy looked at the food. They could eat this later. "Mais oui."

 

Both men got out of their clothes and ran into the waves. "Not fair!" Remy complained when Warren won the race. "Y're usin' y'r wings to beat me!"

 

"Let me make up for my cheating then!" Warren flung himself at Remy, pulled him beneath the water and tickled him.

 

"Merde!" Remy exclaimed when he surfaced again. "Y're a cheat, cher!" Totally relaxed they fooled around in the water, dragging the other beneath the surface and splashing around like kids. Twenty minutes later, they grinned at each other, panting slightly as they had chased each other through the water.

 

Warren wanted Remy to make the first move. His heart beat wildly as the Cajun reached for him, pulling him close. Their wet bodies moved against each other and their erections brushed.

 

"Out of de water, now!" Remy stated urgently and pulled Warren along. They dropped onto the blankets and kissed feverishly. "Oh, cher," Remy easily rolled Warren on top of him and he spread his legs invitingly. "Wanna make love wit' y'." He wanted Warren to touch him, to drive him insane. "Do we have lube?"

 

Warren chuckled. "Yes, we have." He uncovered the tube from beneath the blanket. Warren considered asking his lover whether Remy really wanted this to happen, but sensed the answer in the Cajun's mind. Remy would be seriously upset if Warren stopped now.

 

Running his hands gently over Remy's lean body, Warren took his time to make his lover moan with pleasure. Remy's slick cock poked into his abdomen. "Open the tube for me?" Warren was determined to let Remy guide their actions, should the Cajun need that control.

 

Remy's eyes mirrored uncertainty and Warren whispered, "What?" as he slowly, lazily stroked his lover's cock.

 

"Now what?"

 

Warren sat back on his knees and looked at the beautiful man beneath him. "Rub it on, plenty."

 

Remy took a deep breath and coated Warren's cock with a generous amount of lube. Warren then took over and put some lube on his fingertips. "I really want to be inside of you, Rem," he whispered seductively as one finger found Remy's entrance. "But just say stop and..." Warren gently massaged his lover's opening and once he felt Remy relax, his finger slid inside.

 

Remy buried his hands in the sand, relishing the weight of his lover on top of him. "Je t'aime," he whispered and raised his head to capture Warren's lips.

 

Warren quickly complied. His tongue nudged against Remy's teeth and his lover allowed him entry. Chasing Remy's tongue with his, he slipped in a second finger and began to stretch his lover. They'd gone this far before and Remy usually took his fingers easily... like now. But after that disastrous first time, Warren had never again tried to enter Remy fully. The Cajun squirmed beneath him and his fingertip located the sweet spot inside his lover's body. Rubbing it gently, Warren felt Remy buck hard.

 

Arching his hips, Remy sucked the tip of Warren's tongue hard. Remy looked into Warren's eyes, pleadingly. He was ready.

 

But Warren shook his head, added more lube and then returned with three fingers. Aiming for Remy's prostate, he thrust slowly. "Rem? Now?" Although he read the answer in Remy's eyes, Warren needed to hear the words.

 

"Yes, cher, inside... now..." Remy gasped as Warren's fingers left his body and he quickly threw his arms around his lover's neck, holding him in place. "Like dis," he stated confirmed.

 

"But it will be less painful when you're on your side, love," Warren said pleadingly and nibbled on his lover's earlobe.

 

"Non, need to see y'r face." It would keep his memories at bay. "Please?"

 

Warren gave in. "Wait..." he folded the blanket they weren't using right now. "Lift that incredibly cute ass of yours, love." Remy blushed. Warren couldn't believe it. Remy was blushing. Even after all this time, his lover was still getting used to receiving compliments! He placed the blanket beneath Remy's hips. It would take some strain of Remy's back and legs. He hoped that the angle was right to hit his lover's prostate once he was fully inside.

 

"Oui." Remy had hooked his arms behind Warren's neck again and pulled him close. This time he felt the head of Warren's cock against his slick entrance. "Take me, cher. Wanna be y'rs."

 

"You're already mine, Rem." Warren took hold of his erection and placed its tip against his lover's opening. "I love you, Remy," Warren whispered and pushed inside. The ring of muscle gave in and Warren moaned. Placing his hands next to Remy's shoulders, he gave his lover time to get used to the invasive feeling.

 

Remy only tentatively let go of the breath he'd been holding and noticed that he was solely focused on Warren. The bad memories left him alone. The fear and nervousness had left too. "Oh, cher..."

 

Taking Remy's moan as a sign to proceed, Warren pushed in deeper. Suddenly, he slid into the hilt and stunned he realized that he was completely buried inside Remy's passage, which was incredibly tight. But he'd waited too long for this moment to let his urges lead him and he maintained eye contact with Remy the entire time.

 

Remy tried not to breathe too deeply. Feeling Warren inside was a divine experience and he couldn't believe how good it felt to be one with his lover. He'd never imagined it would... could feel like this.

 

"Remy?" Warren needed to know that his lover was fine. Holding perfectly still, he tried not to thrust.

 

"I'm bien, cher... just can' believe dat I didn' t'row y' off." Wrapping his legs around Warren's waist, he tried to thrust up. "Y' can move, ange. I won't break."

 

Slowly, tenderly, Warren moved inside his lover. Suddenly Remy's muscle clenched him and Warren sought his lover's eyes. "Did you do that on purpose?"

 

"Oui," Remy replied impishly. "Want me to do it 'gain?"

 

"No," Warren moaned. "Or do you want me to come right now?" Warren established a gentle rhythm, careful not to thrust too deeply or wildly. He wanted this to be special. Remy quivered beneath him as the head of his cock brushed his lover's prostate.

 

Remy threw back his head and buried his fingernails in Warren's back. Thrusting back, he met his lover passionately.

 

Warren groaned. He didn't want to come yet, wanted this pleasure to last forever. Leaning in closer he licked Remy's ear. "I promised you that we would one day make love in the sky... do you remember that?" Spreading his wings, he tightly hooked his arms behind Remy's back.

 

Remy was too wrapped up in rapture to object. "Mais oui, cher..." He heard the beating of Warren's wings and held on tight. Warren continued to thrust, to rub against his prostate and he knew that he wouldn't last much longer. Suddenly, the soft fabric of the blankets was gone and a gentle breeze brushed against his back. "Cher?" Only now he realized that Warren had taken to the sky. "Ange," he whispered, taken aback. He groaned deeply in his throat as Warren's determined thrusts sent him over the edge.

 

Warren shared Remy's climax and bit his lower lip. "Oh Rem..." Feeling his lover's ecstasy and the quavering body against him, he reached orgasm as well. It rode along on the last remnants of Remy's pleasure.

 

Remy buried his face in Warren's golden locks and licked the sweaty skin, eager to taste his lover. "We made love, cher... we made love... and y're still inside me."

 

Warren pressed his lover close to his chest and his sated sex slipped out of Remy's body. His wings trembled as he returned to the beach, setting Remy gently down on the blanket. They stared at each other, taking in each line of the other's face, inhaling their scents and relishing the echoes of passion in their minds.

 

They lay down and Warren wrapped the blankets around their cooling bodies. "Wanna stay here to watch the sun rise?" Remy was in his arms, snuggled up to him and Warren had absolutely no desire to move.

 

"Oui, stay," Remy whispered and closed his eyes. "Felt good to be a part of y'."

 

"Yeah, it felt... beyond words." Tightly curled up around each other they watched the sun set completely and then counted the stars. Sated, they fell asleep.

 

The end.


End file.
